Random Reality Shifts
by Wakebytheriver
Summary: Set during Mockingjay. Rated M for language and sexual content. Katniss comes out of the shower to find a surprise visitor who might be trying to kill her...and that is just the beginning. Just changed from "complete" to "in progress." Updates to come soon.
1. Watch it Blow Up

_**Thanks for reading. I wrote this after Mockingjay left me wanting a scene where these two crazy kids could hash out their differences without giving Katniss the chance to run off when she didn't want to deal with it anymore. I also felt that certain accusations were left unexplained, so I threw in some stuff I think might have helped the Capitol to send Peeta off the edge of sanity. Enjoy.**_

_**Please R&R **_

The claustrophobia was getting to her. This isn't to say that she wasn't suffering from an extensive list of other mental disorders PTSD, codependency, frequent insomnia, anger management issues but as of late, the Claustrophobia was the worst.

It probably had something to do with the recent lockdown. While bombs rained down upon the surface, the entire population of District 13 had gone hundreds of feet underground where they were forced to live practically on top of one another adhering to even stricter schedules and spending hours at a time in the dark. When the danger had passed and the lockdown lifted, most of citizens were allowed to return to their homes. The Everdeen family was one of the few that had been forced to relocate. Their old apartment had collapsed in on itself and they had taken up temporary residency on a new floor.

Not long after, Katniss had moved in with Johanna on a floor where the bathrooms were shared between all of the dorms on the floor.

The moment she saw the group shower area, Katniss decided it was time to use whatever sway she may have to rectify the situation. This was not an issue of modesty or vanity. If anything, it was a desperate grasp at a little privacy. As it currently stood she had none.

It had begun a week after Peeta was rescued from the Capitol. After he'd attacked her, she'd noticed that the security officers who roamed the base were keeping as particularly close eye on her. She couldn't help thinking that they were spying .

Oh yeah, she was also a little paranoid.

Talking her way into a less public shower setting had been easier than she expected. Plutarch had been the most help. He'd gotten a good look at her after the quart quell. There were too many fresh scars on her body and with the new bruises on her neck (not the mention the lovely surgery scar from having her spleen removed), she worried about rumors spreading around. She reminded him that with her new position as mockingjay/savior-of-their-collective-asses, having eyewitnesses to evidence of her humanity could impede the process of political deification they'd be working so hard to achieve for her.

In other words, injuries were bad for the hero image. She kind of hated herself for using this tactic, but Plutarch seemed to understand that she needed a few minutes to herself once a day, so he gave her a key to the VIP bathroom, warning her to only go there late at night and not to get caught.

"I don't want to get yelled at, just so you can keep your clothes on in front of your neighbors," he told her with a wink.

The luxury bathroom turned out to be a six-foot long closet with a shower, counter, trash door, and a wall mirror. It wasn't much, but it offered her a little privacy.

So here she was at almost 3am, rinsing the grime and sweat from training off of her body. Since everyone was supposed to be in bed there were no guards around to follow her as she walked the halls. No one was around and she couldn't be happier about it. It was the only time of day that she didn't feel like people were pressing in from all sides.

This was the only place she could truly be alone to pour over her thoughts.

Lately her thoughts had been a steady stream of everything she was doing wrong. In the course of just a few days she'd managed to alienate herself from almost everyone she cared about…again. She didn't want to be around friends, or her mother, or even Prim. The only time she ever felt human was during training sessions where she and the other soldiers could spend a few hours a day beating the crap lout of each other. It turned out to be very therapeutic for everyone.

She adjusted the water and turned up the heat a bit to soothe her sore muscles. Even though she was clean, she lingered for a few minutes. It was a waste of water and 13 wasted nothing, neither did 12 for that matter, but the water ration was ridiculous. At least she got to shower every day. She'd been training constantly and was steadily improving her fighting form. Every workout became a little easier, meaning the trainers had to keep up with her progress to ensure that she was being sufficiently challenged.

Today had been a particularly taxing day. They'd held a tournament in the gym today. Everyone was paired off and the winners fought one another, while the losers went back to the mats to practice. Just before the first set of matches began, Peeta came down from his room, flanked by guards and was assigned a partner.

"Oh this is great," Johanna had said, "Let's turn Nutjob over there into a more efficient killing machine."

Katniss lost her first match, Peeta lost his second. When he saw her in the practice section, he did his best to ignore her. Like herself, he had a partner to spar with. For about the first hour, he was able to focus, his intense stare forward and his hands obediently at his sides whenever she passed, doing his best to concentrate on what the instructor was shouting. After another hour of sweating, he went to the water cooler for a drink and must have gotten too close to where she was practicing with Johanna, because his guards suddenly swooped in. While he'd spent the entire session a relatively calm state, he became suddenly aggressive and had to be dragged from the gym. Just before he was out the door, he looked straight into her eyes and she could see the bloodlust in their depths.

It broke her heart. She missed Peeta. The old Peeta. The real Peeta. She was determined that one day, when this was over and Snow was dead, she would find a way to bring him back. His life was her personal duty and she would never be at peace until she was sure that he was safe and happy. Currently, she was failing miserably in that duty and because of her failures, he was forced to suffer with his identity every day. Sometimes she would see the charming man who'd professed his love for her the night before their first games, then other times he was the man who'd tried to strangle her to death. Instinctively, her hand went to the bruises on her neck.

The rain over head suddenly went cold, meaning that any second now, the water ration would be up and sure enough, the water shut itself off just moments later. She looked up at the shower head, and let out a sigh before turning and pulling the curtain aside.

It was barely an inch off the wall when she saw him. She yanked the curtain back into place, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep the scream in, while gripping the curtain so hard against the wall, she was afraid she'd rip it down.

"Come out," said Peeta in a low voice.

But she was having trouble moving. She shook so bad, she couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice, "What are you doing here?"

"I want to talk. Come out."

He was so calm it was unnerving.

"How did you get away from the guards?" she demanded. She was trying to keep the fear out of her voice but there were already tears at the edges of her eyes and the lump in her throat was giving her away.

"I took care of the guards," he said simply.

"Oh, Peeta. You didn't."

"Didn't what?" he asked bitterly, "No, I didn't kill them, Katniss. Not that it would have been hard. Security around here seems a little lax, in my opinion."

"You're telling me," she quipped back, hoping to keep things light. She surveyed her surroundings looking for something she could use to defend herself with, but there wasn't so much as a used razor. There was a small shampoo bottle that maybe she could slam against his temple if he got close enough, but she was hoping it wouldn't come to that.

"Look," she said, "You have to go back. If you get caught here, you'll be in a lot of trouble.

She was trying to make it sound like a warning, but as scared as she was, he wasn't buying it.

"I'm already in plenty of trouble thanks to you," he told her, "A little more won't hurt me."

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, gripping the bottle tightly. It was stupid and she knew it. He was too fast, too strong. If wanted to come into the shower and drag her out, a tiny bottle wouldn't stop him. The thought of what he was there for terrified her. In the milliseconds, it'd taken for her to recognize he was there and shut the curtain, she'd registered the rage and obsession in his eyes. He looked awful. His face was gaunt and his eyes huge like he hadn't slept in days. Seeing those eyes in her mind, reminded her how vulnerable she was truly was, "Are you here to kill me?"

Outside of the tiny shower, Peeta cocked his head at the question. He'd gone looking for her now knowing exactly what he was going to do when he found her. When he'd beaten up his guards, his goal had been simply been to see if he could. Success brought too much free time however, and he decided that good or bad, it was time to seek out the one who'd been plaguing his mind nonstop for years. Whether he was going to kill her was still to be decided.

He knew he needed answers to questions no one else could help him with. The fact that she was naked was just a bonus. He could hear the fear in her voice, despite her attempts to keep calm. She was brave and would be until the end, but if he wanted her, a flimsy curtain wasn't keeping him out. He felt no guilt for these thoughts, no disgust with himself when he remembered their time together in the arena and on the train. All the times, she'd laid wrapped around him, tempting him with the warmth of her body, the softness of her flesh and had given him nothing more than a few kisses. But then, he'd deluded himself into believing it was enough. It was never enough. He'd risked everything to save her the first time and how did she thank him? By putting him in danger and shoving him toward what should have been his death.

She could have at least fucked him a couple of times first.

Suddenly a more rational part of his brain crept up on him, reminding him that he'd agreed to sleep beside her. He'd never pushed, never asked, never even made a move. So, why was he there to yell at her for something he'd already agreed to?

_**Wait,**_ said a third voice, of course they'd been together. Hadn't he told the world there was a baby? A secret marriage? A few joyous months together before being shoved back into the arena?

_No, you made that up, moron._

_**Did you?**_

So many memories of her and in them her body always looked the same, writhing on top of him, being taken from behind, moving under him on cotton sheets. Her rapturous moans rang in his ears and he could practically feel her hot skin under his fingertips. She was flawless; perfect. Could anyone's skin be that exempt from blemishes? A mutt's could. The Capitol could do that.

"Shut up," he hissed at that side of his rational.

Katniss, assuming he was speaking to her, didn't say anything. She didn't know what was happening out there and was afraid that if she risked a look, it would set him off. Everything set him off these days. She remembered what Johanna had said a few days before, about how he'd recently begun having public arguments with himself. If she said the wrong words, this could go badly.

"You're really quiet in there?" he said, trying to fill the dead space, "I figured you'd be screaming for help by now."

She grit her teeth. Now he was just playing with her. He wanted her to say out loud that she wasn't getting out of this, "Come on, Peeta. We both know that no one is around to hear me."

That's it, she thought, I'm on my own.

He still hadn't made a move towards her, nor had he answered her question about whether he was planning to kill her. When she tried to ask again, he stopped her.

"What's going to happen, is I'm going to ask you questions. You're going to answer them. If I believe you, we both walk out of here alive," he said levelly, "If not, we're gonna have a problem and I don't know what's going to happen at that point. Agreed?"

"Ok," she said, nodding, even though he couldn't see her. All they had really agreed on was that there was likely going to be a problem, "Ask me anything."

He was silent for a minute, then she could hear him muttering to himself. She got a few words here and there, but, nothing concise, until,, "…just gonna lie and then…rip that shit off….no…no, that's not it, just-" she could hear him taking deep breaths and imagined him shaking, with attempts to control his mind. Finally he asked, calmly, "Did you destroy District 12 because I called for a ceasefire?"

What followed immediately was the loudest silence she'd ever experienced. She stood behind the curtain waiting for him to ask the real question because there was no way on earth he could be serious. But he didn't ask another question. He leaned against the bathroom counter and waited.

"Th-they told you that I destroyed District 12?" she asked, still in complete disbelief.

"No, _you_ did," he told her, believing every syllable he said, "No one knew that the rebels had destroyed 12 until you butted into a broadcast so you could show yourself, standing in front of my family's home, telling the entire world that my none of them have been heard from since you bombed them."

"The Capitol destroyed 12 weeks before that," she said quickly, "Why would I?"

He heard the voice in his head, not his own, but Snow's directly after the broadcast, after he'd collapsed. They told him he'd had a seizure on stage and had hit the ground so hard, it had shattered his ribs and almost broken his jaw.

"She wants to punish you," Snow had told him, "She wants to hurt you so badly that she'd destroy her own home, just kill the people you love."

The president had made Peeta watch the rebel broadcast another dozen times until he understood her words exactly, and even then, Snow had insisted he watch it again.

When he explained this to her, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, realizing how it must have looked. If no one had told him about the destruction of 12, then the sight of her standing in front of his parent's bakery must have looked like a display of power instead of a plea to his common sense.

"Peeta," she said after a minute, "Have you see the footage of your own broadcast? Has Haymitch shown it to you?"

"Why the hell would he show me that?" he asked.

"Because, the video shows very clearly that you didn't have a seizure," she explained, "You cracked, Peeta. That thing the Capitol turned you into lost control and you warned that District 13 was about to be bombed. You saved the lives of every person here and when you did, soldiers came onto the set and beat you until you were unconscious.

"I want you think really hard about what you're accusing me of. Why would I bomb 12? My family lived there."

"So did mine," he said through his clenched jaw, "So why is it that not one of them is here?"

He was quiet as he recounted the first couple of weeks after his "rescue." He'd never felt so alone in his life, "I want to understand how it is that all of your friends and family got here and all of mine ended up dead."

"What about Delly?"

"Oh fuck Delly!" he spat, "my entire family was bombed and you wanna make a consolation prize out of Delly-fucking-Cartwright? You're not stupid enough to really think that."

She gave him a few moments to calm down, listening to his steps pace the tiny bathroom.

"So, what did I do, Peeta?" she asked calmly, hoping her tone would affect him, "How did I destroy 12? Did I fly there in a hovercraft, guns blazing, laughing manically while I dropped bombs on your family's house? Where would I have gotten the hovercraft? Or the bombs for that matter?"

"You got taken in by a war District."

"Yes, a District that specializes in nuclear weapons," she shot at him. If he wanted to throw out crazy accusations, she was gonna counter it with everything she had, "If they wanted to wipe out 12, not a soul would have made it past the Meadow. You know how big 12 was. The capitol started their raid right in the middle of town, right on top of your parent's house. The only reason anyone got out at all was because of Gale."

Peeta got an image in his head of Gale running away from the bombings, knowing that people were still in the town that was on fire. Of everyone he'd ever met in 12, few people had the competency to know to run when the hovercrafts arrived. Gale was one of the few. He was a survivor, just like Katniss, and while you couldn't blame the guy for staying alive the thought of him leaving Peeta's family to burn was almost too much. His vision went white and he felt pain in his hand. When the world returned to color he found his fist had made a hole in the wall. His hand was bleeding, but nothing looked broken. It brought up a memory from before, when she'd shove him into an urn. His hand looked about the same. She'd done it because he'd said he loved her. She'd done it because she was pissed at him.

She was always pissed at him.

"Why are you always so pissed at me!" he yelled at her, taking his hand to the sink.

"What?" asked Katniss, having not been granted access to his erratic thought process.

"Nothing," he seethed, as he washed his hand. After a few seconds of trickling out the water shut off. He found a towel under the sink and tried to make it into a bandage, "Let's not talk about Gale. That guy pisses me off."

"Everything pisses you off," she blurted out.

"You know," he said with a sarcastic laugh, "I think I'm aloud to be pretty angry about everything I've been through."

"Of course you are," she agreed, "but you need to be angry at the people who did it you. I did a lot of bad things, Peeta but I didn't turn you into this and I didn't kill your family. I liked your father. He was a good man. The first time we left for the games, he promised to keep Prim from going hungry. I owed him so much."

"Please don't act for a second like you give a shit about my father," he warned.

She wanted to start yelling at him. Speaking cautiously was getting her nowhere and the more he accused her of not caring the more she felt the need to prove him otherwise. It was exhausting trying to not make the cutting comments about his mother she had lined up in her head.

"He helped my sister," she said as calmly as she could, "of course I cared."

When he didn't disagree, she added, "Did you hear about the mayor? His family's gone missing. It looks like they didn't get out either."

"Madge?" he asked.

"She was probably with them."

In his mind's eye, he saw a pretty girl in a white dress, with blonde hair. He'd known Madge in school, but not well. He had a million memories of seeing Katniss in the lunch room and more often than not, Madge was sitting beside her. Neither spoke and there was little to convey the idea of friendship between them, but every day, there they were in the same spot, having some sort of silent conversation while eating their lunches.

He was afraid that she might be right about this one. Madge was the mayor's daughter. The bombing must have happened so quickly that there was no time for alarm or warning, not even to the Undersees. Had 13 been gearing for an attack, the mayor would have been notified by the Capitol and he could have done something to start the evacuation. More people would have gotten out. The merchants and tradesmen would have been the first to escape not the "Seam Scum" (as his mother would have called them) that were currently occupying the less privileged areas of District 13. But he knew in the pit of his stomach, that they didn't escape. If they had, Madge would have been sent to see him instead of Delly. They'd run in similar circles outside of school.

He remained quiet for few long minutes as he considered what she'd said.

The tension was killing her. In fact, she was starting to wish he would just rush the thin cloth that kept them apart. Then at least she would know which version of him she was dealing with, "Let me ask you something now."

"What?"

"About six weeks after you were captured, they played the first interview and you looked healthier than I could have hoped for. You were fed and rested and you stood up there and called for a ceasefire. I just gotta know in all the ways they screwed you up, even in all the ways that you hate me, did you ever forget that thousands of people had spent seventy-five years at the edge of starvation? Was it enough to forget what else was going on out there?"

"No."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because I wanted you back," he said bitterly, "I wanted our family back the way it was before any of this shit happened to us and if you got shot on a battlefield, that wouldn't happen."

She took a deep breath, trying to imagine what he thought their life had been, "Did they tell you we were married?"

He replied carefully, "I have…memories of us together."

"How? We were never together, Peeta. And if we had been, they wouldn't have known. All they had were some kisses on camera."

As she said, she realized how wrong she was. They had more than a few kisses in the arena. They had recordings of everything from his fake proposal to footage of them entering her room together where they stayed until morning. Pair that up with any attraction he already felt, it wouldn't have been hard to turn it around on him.

"You understand that it wasn't real, don't you?" she asked with a lump in her throat, "They were fantasies that you already had and the Capitol made you think they actually happened."

Peeta found himself clenching his injured hand so tightly that his nails were digging into the skin of his palm. He didn't know why he was so angry. This is what he'd come for. He needed her to tell him that their marriage had been fake, that he'd never have been stupid enough to marry a lying snake like her. He'd been right. So why did it make him feel so damn frustrated?

"What about-" he began, then the different parts of his mind all started talking at once. Katniss could hear him mumbling once more.

"What?" she said, trying to push him to finish his thought. When he kept sputtering curse words, and telling himself to "Stay out of it," she attempted to call him back, "Peeta!"

He looked up suddenly, the thought train broken by her call.

"What about what?" she asked.

Peeta leaned back against the bathroom door, bringing his eyes up to the low watt light above him, "What about the baby?"

Of everything she'd said so far, she was afraid that this was what was going to get her killed. Somewhere in his gut he must know the truth, but she felt that having to say it out loud would break what little control he had. She'd worked hard to not hurt him and he was silently begging her not to do it now. But she couldn't lie to him, not now.

"What did they tell you?" she asked, leaning back away from the curtain, "I mean they must have noticed that I wasn't getting any bigger in the propos."

Peeta gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He'd been staring at the light bulb so long, he could see bright shapes behind his eyelids. As he watched them turn into amorphous blobs of white, he remembered the moment he'd been told of the loss.

It had been during an interview with Caesar.

"They told me you killed it," he said, banging the back of his fist into the door behind him, "They put me in an interview, in front of a full audience and told me that you killed our baby to punish me for not dying in the arena like I was supposed to."

Katniss actually fell to her knees this time, stunned. Her stomach churned again and she wanted to throw up the nothing in her stomach. She wanted what he'd just said to leave her memory, so she wouldn't have to imagine him a room full of people and cameras, being told horrible lies just to get a reaction. It had been just another form of torture, but it hadn't only been for him. She let out a sob, covering her eyes with her palms, trying anything to block out the thoughts.

Peeta heard her, but hadn't moved. His eyes stayed closed and every few seconds, he would hit the door with the backside of his fist, harder each time, until the pain took him away from the moment. Every impact was stronger, pulling his thoughts away from that room with the bright lights and Caesar Flickerman in his ridiculous wigs. He'd had so many fantasies of ramming that wig down Caesar's throat, watching the blue hair mix with blood as he choked to death on his own uselessness.

After a particularly hard hit, he felt a sharp pain and was pretty sure a bone in his hand had fractured. He was dimly aware that Katniss was calling his name.

"What?" he asked coldly.

Katniss had heard the thud of each hit and was afraid he was punching the wall again.

"There wasn't a baby, Peeta," she said from the shower floor where she was leaning back against the wall. She hadn't stood. Her arms were wrapped loosely around her knees and she was looking down at the tiles, wanting so badly to join the dirt that was jammed into the grout. She'd known it had been bad, she'd known that they'd spent a lot of time unhinging him from reality, but somehow this seemed worse than anything, "You only said that there was because you were trying to protect me."

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" he spat.

She raised her head, looking at the white cloth that separated them, imagining where his face was on the other side, "Because you're in love with me."

She regretted saying it the moment it was out of her mouth. It was a loaded statement and opened her up to a question which didn't have an answer for. Almost as if on cue, he asked it, "Do you love me?"

"I don't know," she said honestly.

He shook his head, "Don't lie to me."

"Ask me something else," she said, trying to get them back on topic.

"If you had to kill me, would you do it?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"Now _that_ I believe."

He'd wanted a yes to the first question, but he didn't really know why. He wouldn't have believed it anyway. All it would do is complicate things and give him another reason to rage at her. Maybe it was just habit from all the time he'd spent pursuing her that he felt a little reciprocity on her part might bring him some relief. But that wasn't her. She would never admit to actually feeling something, except of course her want to see him dead. It made his hands clench again, though this time the pain from the fractured bone helped to keep him in check.

"But I don't want that," she said.

"You're a liar," he seethed, "You left me there! You let the Capitol take me."

"No," her voice became solid through the curtain, "You wanna blame someone for that, go scream at Haymitch. What happened in the first arena? We both got out because of me. You said to shoot you and I didn't."

"You put poison in my hand," he screamed, coming closer to her.

"I put it in mine too. I put that poison in my mouth for you!" Suddenly she was screaming too, "Everything I have done has been to keep you alive. When are you going to wake up and realize that we're all on your side?"

She heard him hit the wall again, but with less force this time. He was starting to crack and she knew that the wrong words would send him flying through the curtain.

"If I'm lying to you, can you explain to me why you're still here?" she asked, "The moment you attacked me, they should have shot you on the spot. Why are they working so hard to help you? Why did we mount a rescue? Do you know that when Gale came back, he said it was easy to get you out. It was too easy. The Capitol wanted us to take you back, so that you would kill me. Two problems would be taken care of at once. All they had to do was convince you to do it and looks like they did. You told me that you wanted to be more than a piece of their games and if you give in to this, that's all you'll ever be."

Flashes of terror, pain, blood flashed in his mind until his vision was a blur of gore, colliding with the life he remembered before. He was back in a dark room full of blinding lights and loud equipment. There were rooms on either side of his where he could hear shrieks of pain and calls for help. He recognized one and wanted get away to help the source of the cries. He was starving, sleep deprived, suffered from broken bones and internal hemorrhaging. The soldiers who beat him didn't care. He usually started the day with a cracked femur or a dislocated shoulder. They'd just throw a thick, disgusting smelling medicine over his injuries and within a few hours they'd be healed and ready to be torn apart again and again and again. He never slept, not really. It was as if chainsaw were going off next to his ear keeping him awake, keeping him watching images of himself on the screen. Then they showed a moment he'd spent with her. A scream of terror left his mouth and he began to tear at his restraints until his hands bled. A doctor ran forward, stuck a needle in his neck and he went limp in the chair, not unconscious, just immobilized, listening to them talk about him like he was goddamn science experiment.

Peeta began to hyperventilate. His hands went into his hair, grabbing so tightly, he almost ripped it out by the roots. He was trying to speak, but it just sputtered out in a disjointed jumble. His vision turned red as he remembered what they had done to "recondition" him, why they had beaten him, why scientists- not doctors- were always injecting him with different drugs.

He searched for something solid to hang onto and his hands found the metal towel rack. He ripped it from the wall and with a roar, smashed it into the mirror, over and over again until the shatterproof glass was smashed into bits so small, he couldn't see his reflection. He crashed the metal rod into the overhead light, then added a dozen more holes to the wall. When there was nothing left to destroy, a primal scream left his mouth, like no sound he'd ever made; loud, desperate, enraged, taking all of his breath. In the echo of the bathroom, it sounded like a dragon breathing fire.

On his next inhalation, he gripped his weapon harder, raised it above his head and ripped the curtain aside.

Katniss was still on the floor of the shower. Her arms were over her head and she was curled into the ball in the corner.

"I'm sorry," she choked, "I'm so sorry for everything."

She began to sob, not out of fear, but because she was honestly sorry for what he'd been put through. Everything that had happened was because of her and this was his one opportunity to destroy her the way she'd destroyed him, to be rid of the horror that her existence caused him every day. This was the only answer, the only solution he'd had since they walked into that first arena. He had to kill her. The result would be blissful oblivion when Coin found out. He'd be waiting beside the body with the murder weapon in hand. Hell, they'd probably shoot him right then. What was real would be irrelevant and that was what he wanted more than anything.

One good blow would do it.

Then, he saw her tremble and another memory hit him. They were on the roof of the training center, standing in the gardens on their first night there. When the wind made her shiver he'd put his jacket around her shoulders. His fingertips had touched the skin of her neck. It was the first real, friendly physical contact they'd ever had. Now he looked at the back of her neck and saw where his fingers had left bruises. He really had tried to kill her and here he was again, ready to bash her head in just to give himself some relief.

A part of his brain sparked up, _It'd be unfortunate for the world to lose such a pretty voice. Don't you think?_

**You don't need music**, cried another,** You need release and you won't get it if you let her live. Do it and be done.**

_You do love her, you know._

**Yeah? Well the only thing love's done is put you in this position. I say kill her off!**

As the voices fought in his mind, his arm came down and the metal rod fell from his fingers. He stood there in awe, listening to argument, like there were two people, one in each of his ears, shouting advice through his head. He didn't really want to listen to either. He backed away from the shower entrance, turned to the sink and held the cold, acrylic counter, trying desperately to ground himself. It didn't matter if either of them were making sense. He needed them out.

He looked ahead, suddenly glad that he'd already smashed the mirror. The sight of himself might have driven him off the edge. He could hear Katniss moving, but until he looked over, didn't see the metal rod in her hand as she approached. He crouched, readying himself for an attack, trying to ignore the fact that she was stark naked, which was not an easy feat. Had he made a better attempt to look into her face, he might have seen her true intention. The moment she was parallel with the toilet, she reached over to a small metal door positioned in the wall directly over the tank. She put the towel rack through the opening and listened as it fell a dozen stories to the reclamation center before shutting the door.

Katniss knew she had probably just done something incredibly stupid, but he'd been right. It was time to get some things worked out. She refused to continue to be afraid of him. If he killed her then that was that, but if she was right, that wasn't what he was after. He just wanted to stop feeling like a crazy person for a while, to stop feeling so alone. She knew she could help with that.

Once she was unarmed, his eyes moved over her body more freely. The fury hadn't left his face and the addition of lust to his gaze didn't make him any less dangerous, but she didn't stop until they were a foot apart.

"This is absolute proof that I'm telling you the truth," she told him, her eyes not leaving his, "Take a good look. Is this the body you've seen in your memories?"

He tried to back away, suspicious at this strange offer of flesh, but she closed the distance between them, getting inches from his face. Her jaw was set and her eyes hard as she ordered him, "_Look_."

He had to stare her down for a few more moments to make sure she was serious. This seemed like a great opportunity to get slapped in the face.

He began to circle her, looking closely at parts of her that she didn't expect. She felt his hand on the small of her back, at her right calf, along the inside of her arm. Then he went to the more obvious places. His hands held her waist for a few seconds then began moving slowly along the skin, up her ribs, to the sides of her breasts where, to her surprise they didn't stop. He genuinely seemed to be looking for something. As he traveled up her collarbone and neck his eyes became more focused.

He found it on her left cheek, so faint it barely showed in the single emergency light in ceiling above the door. He ran his thumb over it, staring wide eyed at the mark.

"You got this from a whip, didn't you?" he whispered. She nodded, seeing the clarity in his eyes for the first time in weeks, "I forgot about it."

"I didn't have it in those memories?" she asked carefully.

He shook his head, dumbfounded, "They must not have known about it when they-"

He took his hands off of her, leaned back against the sink and closed his eyes. His hands began to shake as he realized exactly how many lies he'd been so ready to believe. The most frightening thing was that, discovering this one truth about Katniss barely scratched the surface. He still wasn't completely sure he trusted her but, when he opened his eyes, he found that for the moment he didn't care.

"What's going to happen?" she asked seeing the desire that he wasn't even attempting to hide, "I don't know if you're going to snap suddenly and rip my head off."

He paled, "I don't know either."

"This is what you want, isn't it?" she asked, "Both sides of you want this, the side that wants me dead and the one that just wants me. You knew that when you came here. You knew I'd be naked, you did that for a reason. So it's up to you. Do you want to do this to me, or with me?"

Suddenly, she saw something new in his eyes: shame. He _had_ wanted her defenseless and naked and he hated himself for it.

Without a word, he buried his face in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her scent, and tangling his hands in her hair. Her arms remained limp at her sides, fearing if she moved her hands towards him, he would feel threatened. He placed light kisses on her shoulder, moving up the bruised skin on her neck and pressed her back against the counter with his hips, both trapping her there and showing her physically, how much he wanted her.

His lips found hers and he breathed the word against them, "With."

The word put a fire in the middle of her stomach and she put her hands to his cheeks, turning the light kisses into heavy passionate ones. He put his hands under her thighs and lifted her onto the counter, trailing his fingers under her legs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He tore his shirt over his head then went back to kissing her. When her hands touched his bare torso, he tensed up like he was going to pull back and his fingers dug almost angrily into her back. The moment passed just as quickly as it came on. It wouldn't be the last time.

As their lips danced together, she ran her fingers down his chest towards the waistband of the flannel pants he wore. He must have come from the hospital wing because what he wore was practically pajamas. Before she reached them, he took her hands, and shoved them roughly away then removed the pants himself. He leaned her back towards the counter, then began to move his mouth down her chest. When she attempted to run her fingers through his hair, he leapt back like she'd burned him. She had to throw a hand behind her to keep from hitting her head against the mirror. Peeta had retreated to the opposite wall.

Katniss got down from the counter and approached him.

"Sorry," he said, "You just startled me. I think I just need to know where your hands are."

"Peeta," she said carefully, "This is not 'with.' Let me show you."

She put her palms onto his bare chest and ran them all over the front of his torso, then they were at his sides, then behind him. This caused her to be flush against him.

"It's just you and me," she said against his mouth in between wet, passionate kisses, "I don't have a knife behind your back or a gun. You're so strong, I probably couldn't kill you now if I tried. You have to trust me."

He didn't let her continue. His mouth claimed hers and he pushed her back against the counter. She lifted herself onto the cold surface and pulled him in between her legs. His fingertips trailed the side of her thighs, following the soft skin to her knees, before making the trail back along the insides.

Katniss put her head back and closed her eyes as he gently exploded her. His lips had returned to her neck, nibbling the skin he found there, causing shivers that she felt through her entire body, but nowhere as much as the place his hands had found. He inserted a finger inside her and her eyes shot open, as a gasp shot air into every molecule of her body. Even the tips of her hair felt lighter. She closed her eyes again and moved against his hand, concentrating all of her focus into the places inside and out that his fingers had found.

Soon, she was sputtering nonsense too.

She wrapped her legs around him, trying to pull him as close as possible. He removed his hand from her, moving it to her backside and lifted her from the counter. He laid her on the floor, hovering above her for a few moments, looking her body over again. Her figure was beautifully proportioned and strong from years of hunting. Her breasts were smaller than his memories told him they should be and her waist not quite as curved, but the sight of her lying naked and splayed out, waiting for him to take her caused him not to care so much about the details as the entirety of what she was offering. He slid a hand back down her thigh to her core, feeling the wetness that had accumulated. He'd made that happen. His lips came down to her stomach and moved their way up to her breast where the nipple was taut and pointed up to the ceiling. He'd made that happen too. When he grazed his teeth along the pink skin, her breath hitched and a quick moan had escaped her mouth. That was the best thing he'd made happen so far. His fingers were almost too tight on her waist and the wave of urgency only made him more careless with her.

He kissed her lips so hard that she thought they might bruise under the crushing weight, but she held fast to the knowledge that she was doing something good for him; for both of them. They both needed be away from the world for a little while, just long enough to remember that their entire lives weren't made of the pains of their past. There was no one they could go to besides each other who would understand what that meant. They were in this together; they always had been and she would do whatever it took to keep him from slipping any further away than he already was.

She hadn't counted on liking it so much.

He looked into her eyes just long enough to see the pleasure, the complete enjoyment of his crushing kisses and strong hands before he changed his position and without warning plunged into her. They let out a joint cry of pain and release. For a few long moments, they remained motionless, taking in the sheer strength of the bodies and minds for what they'd just done. There was no going back.

Peeta reared back until his body was almost disconnected from her own, then thrust into her again and then again.

Developing a rhythm wasn't hard. Katniss allowed him to set the pace, moaning his name every time he sank himself deeper inside of her. The sound of her breathless voice spurred him on. Her skin was soft and burning hot under his fingertips. Her body was strong and flexible. When he moved her leg aside to get deeper, he was able to put it father to the side and closer against her torso than he'd expected. The feeling of her wrapped around him, the tightness, the wetness, the call of her voice as he pushed harder, faster, deeper, was not like he remembered. It was better. This was real and there was no denying it.

Initially, Katniss had experienced pain. She 'd known she was going to, but the tearing sensation was more intense than she'd expected. As much as it had hurt, there had been a strange feeling of gratification in it. The pain was cathartic, it was necessary; another test of her endurance, of her will. Now that it was over, she'd expected boundless pleasure, but didn't find it right away. He barely gave her a few seconds rest before he was moving roughly within her. He didn't say a word to her and seemed oblivious to the pain in her voice as she said his name each time. He didn't stop and she never asked him too. She gritted her teeth through each thrust, willing her body to accept the pain as though it was his. With every movement, she felt herself taking his hurt and terror into herself. With every kiss, she pushed comfort and passion into him. He moved her leg up against her middle and went deeper.

After a minutes of being stretched and pounded into a more pliable position, her body finally began to adjust and she began to experience the pleasure she'd felt when he was using his hands. Her eyes closed and her body began to push back against his. Her hands roved his back and when he tried to move her leg even farther, they dug into the muscles near his spine. Suddenly they were lying at her sides of her head. Peeta had his hands around her forearms and he was holding them way too tight. He stopped moving and she felt him began to shake. When she looked into his face, she saw why.

"Oh God," she whispered.

Peeta's eyes were closed. Something had shifted and he was trying his best not to lose control. Holding onto her arms was his way of grounding himself and she knew he probably didn't realize how hard he was squeezing.

"Peeta!" she said sharply, hoping to call him back like she did before, but whatever thought had him wasn't letting go. His face scrunched up and he put his head down breathing deeply.

"Peeta-"

"Shut up!" he spat, still not looking at her, "Just shut up for a second."

She waited; it was all she could do. There weren't many ways to fight back if things went badly from here. She had no hands and only one free leg to fight with. Luckily the leg was in a great position. One knee to the groin would diffuse this situation quickly. For now she waited while he wrestled with whatever demon was trying to take over his mind.

Finally, he let out a long breath and looked up at her with clear eyes.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"You ok?" she asked, bringing her face closer to his. He nodded, then taking the hint, moved in and kissed her deeply. Seconds later, they were back on track, back to their clumsy movement against one another. It was a few seconds before she realized he still had ahold of her arms and she was beginning to lose feeling.

"Peeta," she breathed into his hear, "Let go."

His hands released their grip, but stayed over her arms on his fingers, effectively keeping her from moving any further. She didn't question it. He still didn't trust her completely. Not that she blamed him. Nor did she really care at the moment. As long as he kept moving like that, kept finding ways to fulfill her- nibbling at her neck, kissing her, whispering her name- trust was the least of her worries. This is what they'd needed the whole time. How did she not realize that until now?

He began to move faster, pumping into her at double speed. Her legs shifted up to meet him with every thrust. A sound like a train whistle sounded in her ears and it took almost a whole minute to realize it was coming from her. Her back arched, her mouth opened and out poured a cry of ecstasy along with a number of expletives she wasn't accustomed to using. Peeta released her hands, wrapped his arms around her body and held on as he came hard, riding the waves of endorphins, his brain shot into his system at the feeling of final release. He shuddered a few times, before coming to a stop.

He raised his head and saw her smiling at him.

"Hey," she whispered.

Peeta pressed his forehead to hers and sighed, smiling back at her, "Hey."

He rolled off of her, but kept his arms around her, so that her back was against his chest as they lay on the tile. As she moved, her eyes glanced down at their naked bodies and in the space between them, she saw something that made her curious.

"Look at that," she said, nodding toward the spot.

Peeta reluctantly took his eyes from her face and followed her gaze down to a spot of blood on the tile. He smiled cockily at it. He'd made that happen.

"So, just me?" he asked, trying to wipe the pride from his face.

"Just you," she confirmed, "how about you? Anyone I should be jealous of?"

He shook his head and beads of sweat flew from his forehead, "Just you."

They made love twice more before they heard the two pairs of feet running through the hallway outside of the bathroom. One of their voices came through the door.

"Check them all. There's only so many places he could go."

Peeta sighed. He knew his guards would catch up eventually.

"How the hell'd they get out of the closet?" he asked aloud. He'd tied them up pretty good before heading down here.

"You better go," Katniss said, not sounding the least bit happy about it.

"I don't want to," he said staring her in the eyes, "I don't know what going to happen when I leave this room."

She put a hand to his face and leaned her forehead against his, "Believe me, you don't want them to find us here. Whatever happens out there, we had tonight. Don't forget that."

"What if I go crazy again?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped herself before any words could form. She didn't have an answer. It was very possible that by the time the sun came up, the last few hours wouldn't even matter. Sleep and the sobering light of day might just be enough to send him back into uncertainty and fear, but they didn't have time to worry about that. The voices were getting closer and reality was on its way to destroy them. It was time to go.

It took everything they had to disentangle themselves from each other and get dressed. Katniss took her towel, which was covered in the blood from Peeta's hand, added her own blood to it from the floor and dropped it into the trash door. When she turned back, Peeta was broodingly looking at the door where the towel had disappeared.

"Were you hoping for a souvenir?" she asked with a grin.

"I get the feeling I have enough of those on my back, thank you," he told her with a grin, "The hickies are gonna be hard enough to explain."

"Don't even start with that," she complained, "You don't live with Johanna. I might never hear the end of this."

With that, she smoothed her hair over the love bruises that had been added to her neck and joined him at the door.

"I'll lead them off so you can get out of here," he offered. She didn't refuse. Her hand found his and when the guards had passed, he leaned down, kissed her quickly, but deeply, and then darted out the door and down the hall.

Just like that, he was gone.

A couple of days later, she was on her way to training when she passed him in the hall. Security had been doubled since his little adventure through the base. Coin had been angry to find that he'd destroyed a bathroom and had set extra people to watch him around the clock. Strangely, she didn't feel the need to stop his training.

As Katniss passed, she didn't look at him, but instead reached over as if to rub her shoulder. Knowing that he'd be watching, she pulled down her collar and revealed the purple mark his mouth had made upon her neck. It was her little signal to him that said, "I remember that night. Don't you forget it."

Just as she passed, she heard a snarl and a thud. She looked. Peeta had lunged. His guards had him on his knees in front of her. At first, she saw the rage that usually encompassed his face, then he smiled. Not a big one, honestly the corner of his mouth turned up for a few seconds, but it was enough. He mouthed a single word to her.

"Hey."

It was difficult not to burst out laughing. At the same time, she wanted to slap him. Was he trying to get her in trouble?

She looked up at the guards who apologized profusely. One of them made a move to club Peeta on the back of the head, but she put her hands up to stop him.

"Just keep a better eye on him next time," she told them with a roll of her eyes. The moment her back was turned her lips turned up in a smile that matched Peeta's. It took everything she had not to look back.

Just before she rounded the corner, her left hand curled itself up a couple of times in what she hoped he would see as a wave.

The moment she was out of sight, a wave of joy came over her as memories from a few nights past overtook her mind. Her lips spread into a wide smile and all she could do was return the greeting to empty hall.

"Hey."


	2. All This I have Wanted and More

_**If you've gotten here to chapter two, thank you for continuing to read my mad ramblings. Miss SolasVioletta has been an awesome beta for me and this chapter wouldn't be near as coherent without her. :)**_

_**Please review. Honestly, just so that I know people actually are reading to end of the chapter. **_

_**I do not own the hunger games, or really anything else of merit, but I do have fun using Suzanne Collins' characters as my personal puppets.**_

* * *

"_The dust, a dance against my breath, the world awakens slowly dressed  
A life unanswered in the light with questions scattered in the night_

_And now my heart feels heavy, the weight will drag me down  
You were the only reason they'd find me here tonight  
Please level with me. Understand, I'd do anything for you  
Seize any moment while you can. This void's coming after you  
Cause loneliness is why you hurt.  
Just don't kill the messenger." _

- The Homecoming by Coheed and Cambria

In the weeks that followed, Peeta managed to escape three more times, much to the frustration of his guards who weren't used to looking foolish. Every time he ran for it, he seemed to find Katniss in a matter of minutes, after which they would run off to somewhere secluded where they could be alone together without interruption. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out how he was doing it. Whenever she'd ask him, he'd just give her a wink and tell her it was "his little secret." Immediately afterward, the subject would be dropped for the sake of touching, kissing, and the ripping off of one another's clothes.

Things between them were immeasurably better, but still far from perfect. For instance, he couldn't always help it when tiny things caused him to fly off the handle, but he'd been working on putting his frustration into other activities and had learned that if he wore himself out with her first, there would be little energy left to use on anger and violence. She, in turn, was doing her best to learn his triggers both good and bad ones- but her system needed further study. For example, when she'd been on top a few seconds before, she'd assumed he would enjoy allowing her to take on some of the work, and (she secretly hoped) he wouldn't mind the sight of her body as she moved above him. To her pleasure, his eyes remained wide open as he thrust his hips up to meet hers. His hands had been on her waist, gripping her tightly to keep her from rising too far off of him. Not that she was going anywhere. The new position was causing him to reach places inside her that she'd never felt before. As much as she tried to keep quiet, her voice was reaching new heights, echoing off the walls of the tiny supply closet.

Suddenly, Peeta's hands tightened and his face hardened. He flipped her over roughly so that he was above her. He took her hands in both of his, brought them above her head, and began pumping into her so mercilessly he was convinced he was hurting her, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Katniss didn't complain; not once. If anything, she worked harder to keep up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him as close as possible. She was making a loud "ha!" sound with every thrust and soon he was vocalizing with her. It was careless of them, but in the late hour, the likelihood of someone walking by was slim to none. All the same, when the moment was close, he covered her mouth with his, trying to keep himself from yelling out her name when he came violently, spilling into her as they rode out the aftershocks together.

A minute later, she was laying with her head on his shoulder, looking at him with a telling smile on her lips. She had decided during their second late night meeting that this was her favorite part: watching him catch his breath. The rapid rise and fall of his chest, the sheen of sweat that covered every inch of him, his heart beating so intensely that in the silence, she could practically hear the dull thump of his pulse as it raced through him.

Tonight, he didn't disappoint her.

"So?" she asked, still breathing heavy, herself, "How was that?"

"That was fucking amazing," he assured her, punctuating each word with a breath.

"I don't know, you got a little dark there for a second, like something set you off," she told him, bringing her wrist under her chin. The hand he had around her shoulders trailed along her soft skin, causing a tingling sensation all through her body, "I was afraid I was doing something wrong."

"No" he said firmly, "what you were doing was exactly right. It sure as hell wasn't that."

Katniss planted her lips onto the skin of his shoulder and looked up at him from under brow.

"Then was it?" she insisted, playfully narrowing her eyes in mock-suspicion.

Her fingertips were moving feather-light up his side, dangerously close the sensitive skin of his ribs. She knew he was trying to avoid the topic and was threatening him in the worst way she could in that moment.

"Not fair," he protested, removing her hand from ticklish skin and lacing her fingers between his.

"Spill it, Mellark," she said, her eyebrow arching up expectantly.

In thinking about it further, Peeta didn't know how to explain what had caused him to go "dark," as she'd put it. Everything had felt incredible. Granted, when she'd first leaned him onto his back against the floor, he'd been hesitant- that is, until she'd begun trailing her lips down his neck, along his chest, still further south past his belly button then-

"HOLY FUCKING GOD!" he'd cried out.

There was nothing like it. No feeling on the planet could compare to pleasure of Katniss using her mouth on him. The sensations soared through his body setting every nerve on fire, hitching his breath and curling his toes.

By the time she straddled him, he was practically melting into the concrete under his back.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he'd asked, huskily.

The corner of her mouth turned up, "My little secret."

For Katniss, this roughly translated to "one day, Johanna started talking about sex and wouldn't shut up about it," but she hoped he'd appreciate the mystery.

Her staying on top added a visual element he'd never considered before. He got all of the pleasures of being in control, only now, he got to look at her body stretched out above him, her back arched, her breasts pushed forward, moving up and down as she snaked her body against his. His eyes feasted on her flesh, devouring her every curve, freckle, and scar, while his ears drank in every sensual sound that left her mouth.

The memory brought a fresh wave of arousal to his system and he had to force himself to turn back to the topic at hand to keep from getting hard again. He was still breathing heavy from before. Round two would have to wait a few minutes.

Returning to the present, he shook his head, "I don't know. Something was trying to get in. I had to take control or lose it completely. Why? Was it too much for you?"

She cocked her head at him, "Hardly. I'm just wondering what I was competing against."

He realized right then that she wasn't going to let it go. The last time they'd met, they'd agreed that they would be straight with one another at all times no matter how hard the conversation was. He didn't like to talk about the disturbing thoughts that still haunted him, especially in a moment like this. All he'd wanted to do was lose himself in her; to stop having to be the confused, horrified,___broken_version of himself that he carried around everyday. He hated having to explain it when all he wanted was the post-coital euphoria he longed for every night he was away from her.

"Just...doubt," he told her reluctantly, "The part of me that thinks you want to kill me is the same part that wonders what the hell you're doing here."

"What did that part tell you tonight?"

"That you were just using me," he told her, "That I could have been anyone and you wouldn't have cared."

That was only partially true, but he wasn't fool enough to elaborate at a time like this. The thing screaming in his head _had_ questioned her loyalty, but not with just anyone. He couldn't help but wonder what kept her sneaking around with him in cramped closets and bathrooms when she had a bed she could share with someone that no one would give a second thought about. Unbidden, Gale's face, floated behind his eyelids.

___God, that guy pisses me off__._

******Fuck that guy**_**,**_chimed in another part of his mind.

___**Yeah, fuck that guy**_, agreed another.

"Wow," Katniss said dryly unaware of the chorus of opinions singing through his head, "So your subconscious thinks I'm a slut?"

Peeta grinned, "No, I think my subconscious knows what's going on. Its the louder parts of my brain that can't seem to keep things straight."

"I can fix that," she said, lifting herself above him, so that her lips pressed against his forehead, then down to each of his temples.

"How's your brain doing now?"she asked, still hovering on her arms. From this angle, her breasts were mere inches from his face, "Any clearer?"

"Clear? No, but I'm feeling _much_ better," he replied, before giving each of her nipples a hearty "hello" from his tongue. He took hold of her waist and began to scoot her down his body until their faces were parallel. Looking into her hazy gray eyes, feeling her supple body pressed down against his own, breathing in the smell of sweat and sex that lingered on her skin, he could only think one thing:

___Fuck that guy. She's mine._

She smoothed back the sweat drenched hair on his forehead, running her fingers over his scalp as her lips found his. When she broke off the kiss, she found herself unable to look away from his gaze, unable to stop her fingertips from exploring his bare skin. She returned to resting on his shoulder and for a long time they stared at one another in the dimly lit room, neither saying a word, simply allowing their hands to do the talking.

"I need to stop doubting so much," he said softly, breaking the silence. He reached his hand up to her flushed cheek before running it back into her dark hair, which covered her shoulders, free of the braid she usually kept it in during the day. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, "You're good for me, Katniss. This is good for me. Its simple and every time, I feel like I'm slipping less and less."

She knew it was true. Considering that the first time he'd come close to breaking her bones, a skeptical voice was nothing. Katniss lifted her head onto her palm and leaned on her elbow, as he continued, "I think if we can keep this up, I might be able to walk around without guards in a few weeks."

"Hmm. Peeta Mellark: a free man," she mused, "I like the sound of that."

"Just you wait and see."

She smiled dreamily for a few seconds, then slowly, her face fell. Her eyes dropped to the concrete beneath them and her lips pursed in thought. When she looked back up at him, he could see that she was worried about something.

"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly serious.

She turned over so that she was resting on the ground with her elbows supporting her, forcing herself to look him in the face. It was obvious that she was avoiding saying something important. That was against the rules, and she knew it.

"I'm-uh..." she began nervously.

Peeta wasn't having it. He turned onto his side and got in close. His eyes looked straight into hers, practically boring their way into her soul.

"Tell me," he said in a voice that was low but solid enough that it reverberated off the walls of the closet.

"I'm leaving."

The air, already thick between them, suddenly felt close to exploding.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded, "How can you be leaving?"

The change in him had been so fast that Katniss fled to the other end of the closet. She wasn't in a defensive position, but she had her pick of cleaning supplies and brushes to throw at him if she had to. She hated having to think in these terms, but past experience in the games had her looking at anything as a possible tool for harming another human being and her recent military training had taught exactly her how she could do it. Bleach sprayed to the eyes would work in a pinch and the soap bars alone were heavy enough to knock him out if it came down to it. She had her back to the shelf, and was using the act of getting dressed as a means of distracting him from her potential "weapons."

"This is what I've been training for," she explained, pulling her hair through the top of her t-shirt, "I have my test in three weeks and if I pass, they're shipping me off to the Capitol."

He should have known that. He saw her in the training room everyday and knew how good she was getting. There was no doubt she would pass. It should have occurred to him long ago that she wouldn't be stuck there with him forever and the sad result was him lying on a closet floor, having already practically begged her not to leave him. He felt like a damned idiot.

He grumbled to himself as he reached for his pants and threw them on furiously.

"What are you gonna do there?" he asked abruptly, searching the floor for his socks.

At the curt tone of his voice, Katniss closed her eyes and blew out the breath she'd been holding. She'd known he'd be upset. He had little enough to look forward to during his days in 13 and she worried that with her gone a lot of the progress he'd made would relapse. All the pent up frustration she was helping him to release would build up and fester in his mind, eroding the sense of identity he'd been working so hard to build. The thought of what she'd find when or if she came back from the Capitol made her shudder. For the moment, all she could give him was a promise.

"I'm gonna kill him," she vowed, fastening her arms around his neck, "I'm gonna put an arrow straight through Snow's his heart for what he did to you, to me, and to our families. That entire city needs to be ripped to the ground and I wanna be there to see it."

"I'm not arguing that," Peeta muttered, pulling out of her embrace and reaching for his shirt. He shoved his feet into his shoes and went to the door, only to find her blocking it. Her arms were folded across her chest, her jaw set in defiance.

"You knew what the training was for," she spat, "You're doing the same thing, aren't you?"

"You got me," he grunted, "No one will tell me what I'm training for."

For weeks, he'd received instruction of all kinds of warfare: hand to hand combat, close range weaponry, survival training, battle tactics, stealth; they even taught him how to shoot a gun, though he was shitty shot. Any information he wanted was at the fingertips of his closest commanding officer with the exception of why he was learning all of it. Just a couple of weeks ago, he couldn't even get a pen because they thought he'd stab someone with it. There was no way they were going to put him in a battle situation.

"What the hell do you think is gonna happen after a few weeks of you not being here?" he asked, unaware of his fingers which were going back and forth between splayed and clenched in his agitation, "Things will go from bad to worse. I'm gonna go right back to..."

His voice trailed off as a sudden realization set in to his mind. The moment she saw the change, her hands came up, ready to defend herself. His eyes darkened but he didn't make a move.

He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes forcing himself to keep still as everything in his head began yelling at the same time.

******Makes sense now doesn't it? She's not here for you. She never was. You know where she's going the second she's out of your sight.**

___Fuck that guy. You were there first. She's yours._

******She feels bad for you. Why else would she want to fuck a crazy loser?**

___**Who says she does? That old shitbag probably put her up to it. They've been lying to you from the beginning.**_

******Gale's been helping them.**

___Fuck that guy. Fuck that guy. Fuck that guy._

Stuck on the outside of his internal battle, Katniss approached cautiously. She didn't know exactly what was going on in there, but it was evident he was fighting a particularly vicious stream of thought.

"Peeta?" she said cautiously.

"You idiot," he cursed himself just before his eyes opened. He looked up at her, his face furious, "The act never stops with you, does it?"

The blood drained from her face, "What are you talking about?"

When he spoke it sounded like every word was seeping his control away, bringing him moment by moment closer to burying that rational voice that kept him from beating the truth out of her.

"I'm talking about you," he growled, "You and that _asinine_ need to be even with everyone. You got me back and found me broken. Its not fair that you didn't get tortured, right? So you come here and let _me_ do it to you. Anything to shut that conscience up."

She was trembling with anger, "You really think that being with you is torture? You honestly think I would sleep with you just to make myself feel better."

"No," he seethed, "I think you'd sleep with me to make ___me_feel better. You know, you're really convincing, but I wasn't looking for a pity lay."

"That's not it," she said through clenched teeth.

"Then what the fuck are you DOING HERE?" he shouted, "I tried to kill you. You should be running for your life not screwing me a broom closet. WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

She opened her mouth, but no answer came out, which only infuriated him further. Before either of them knew it, his hand had turned into a fist and was sailing through the air at her face. Instinct kicked in at the last second. She caught him under the wrist, gripped hard, and twisted inward. The action forced his body to face away from her. She got her other hand against his shoulder, shoving forward while simultaneously pulling his wrist up. He had no place to go but down to the ground. His arm went behind his back and her knee pressed into the base of his spine making every attempt to rise even more excruciating.

"You done?" she barked, pushing her knee harder against him.

It took awhile for the fight to go out of him. Whatever had caused that punch to fly abated eventually, but he allowed her to hang on a few extra minutes to be sure. At first, it kept flaring up every time he thought he had it under control, but after being continually met with the pain of her knee in his back and the threat of a broken arm, it finally retreated to the back of his mind. When she was sure his inner chaos had passed, she released his wrist and crouched beside him as he leaned forward on his arms, staring at the concrete ground of the supply closet.

Without looking up, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.

"Sorry," he said resignedly into her hair. It seemed like he was always apologizing to her these days.

"Don't you dare try that again," she said pressinghim tighter against herself.

He let out a humorless laugh, "Right. Never again."

It was a few minutes before they could let go of each other.

She kept a hold of his hand, looking down at where their fingers were joined.

"I think," she began carefully, "I think this should be...our last time together. Peeta, I'm distracting you from getting better. You can't use me to bury what happened to you." She knew there were tears in her eyes and was doing everything in her power to keep them from falling, "This is not good for you. ___I'm_not good for you."

"Katniss," he began, waiting for her to look at him. When her eyes met his, he asked for the second time, "Do you love me?"

Instantly, her determined resolve to end the relationship began to deteriorate. He was asking for a something to hang onto when she was gone, something to keep fighting for (what he'd always fought for- her.) It wasn't too much to ask, but it was something that she couldn't give. She knew that if he had even a shred of hope, the tiniest possibility that she would come back to him, he would never stop fighting for her_. S_he felt the tears retract further back into her eyes. She blinked slowly and they were gone.

"No," she said.

He absorbed her answer silently, giving her no visible reaction at first. He was too exhausted to return to the place of rage he'd just come from. Even the aggregation of angry voices in his fractured mind were quiet now. They'd abandoned him for the moment, but they would be back. She would not. His hands were back in fists and his knuckles were pressed so hard into the floor that he was sure he would see blood on the cement when he raised them. The edges of his vision were blurring, closing in, going dark. In seconds he would black out and what would happen beyond that, he wasn't sure.

After an eternity, he turned his face from hers and unclenched his hands. He stood, and took a breath as though he was about to say something. Katniss couldn't bring herself to look up. If she had to look him in the eyes, to see the lash she'd inflicted, she knew she'd never let him leave that room. She'd be back in his arms and he would be inside her again within seconds. The thought spread unwelcome heat through her chest and down to her core, which ached with the absence of him.

___Don't let him see that__,_ she scolded herself, ___Don't ever let him see._

She waited for him to speak, but there were no words, nothing that he could say to fix this. He reached for the doorknob and was in the hall before her will cracked completely. Her hand flew towards him, but only touched the back of the door, as it closed with a merciless _click_ that shot through her soul like a bullet through the heart. She knew she should go after him, but he was already gone, already back into the real world where they were doomed to estrangement, two people who barely spoke and hated the sight of each other when they were forced to interact. In this small closet, they'd created their own reality where only they existed and life was perfect, harmonious, beautiful.

And she'd defiled it. The outside world had come screaming into the room and she'd been the one who held the door open, ushering it in to destroy them.

She unfolded her cramped legs and stood, leaning on her hands against the shelf that held the cleaning supplies,where her eyes fell on a plastic bottle. She read the label trying to distract herself from the bitter self-loathing that was pushing its way into her like a poison.

******SPOT REMOVER. USES:OVENS, APPLIANCES, STAINLESS STEEL,**

___Well, now you've done it, __her thoughts broke in____, The only truly good thing that was yours and you break it. You stupid little bitch._

******STOVETOPS, SINKS, GROUT, VENTS, CEILING FANS**

___When will you learn? You don't get involved, especially when they're even more screwed up than you. What were you thinking! He deserves better than that! Better than you!_

"Yeah," she agreed out loud, "He deserves better."

******KEEP AWAY FROM OPEN FLAME.**

___Sounds too dangerous for a girl on fire. You better back up or you'll burn up everyone around you and he'll be the first in line._

Katniss reached for the bottle, took it in her hand and threw it with all of her might against the wall. A second joined it, punctuated by a booming cry she'd felt coming up from her the soles of her feet.

Her hand returned to the shelf again and again as she flung the rest of the bottles to the floor, many of which burst, spotting her clothes with chemicals. The liquid pooled at her feet. Bleach from the shelf below joined the toxic mixture, making it harder to breathe as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she took hold of the shelf itself and pulled violently, watching it crash to the floor on top of the puddle of green detergent. On its way down, it hit the light fixture, flooding her in darkness. There was no emergency light to see by, but she didn't try to find her way out.

She stood against the wall, taking in deep breaths of the fumes, enjoying the high that took her away from her misery. She didn't want to be here in 13. She didn't want to be in her own skin.

___Take it in. Hold your breath._

Shadows moved outside the door causing the room to go perfectly black for a fraction of a second. Colors swam behind her eyes, and she fell to her knees, closer to the deadly mixture of poison that was stealing the air. She took in another ragged breath, deeper this time.

___Almost there._

As the strength left her body, and she fell forwards toward the poisonous brew, all she could think was that now she could at least drown in peace. No nightmares, no fear, no one she loved would ever have to hurt again because of her. The person that had been Katniss Evedeen would simply float away into nothingness and she hoped the world would be a better place because of it.

A strong pair of hands took hold of her before her face could reach the blessed liquid that would be her salvation. She turned her head, too dizzy to focus on the person in the light of the open door. She barely registered that she knew the face before her eyes closed and she fell limply onto her savior's shoulder.


	3. This Day Be Done

_**Wow, I'm so thrilled with the response to chapter 2. It's awesome to know that people are responding to my crazy ideas. Thanks everyone for your support and your reviews. They really do inspire me to move forward with this. **_

_**Thank you SolasVioletta for your excellent betaing. **_

_**As usual, I don't own the characters, the places, the things, or the plot that got me here. **_

_The hurt across your face, your word against mine,  
The rhythm you repeat, the beat a hair behind,  
Were you on my side?  
You gave your all, but you gave it once, a lesson that you thought,  
You could teach it when you want, _

_Subtract me from your heart, little take away girl. _

Subtraction- Coheed and Cambria

In the split second between decision and movement, she realized that she was going to miss. The arrow slipped from her fingers and was now moving too fast to stop it. Uselessly, her hand made a reflexive grab, but only closed on the empty air. She watched it sail away from her across the distance and into the lower lung of the deer she'd been aiming at. The deer fell to the ground, emitting a tortured cry that Katniss could feel in her bones.

She vaulted over the log she'd been using as cover and was on her way, when Gale called, "I got it," and hopped down from the tree where he'd been hiding. He approached the deer, taking care to avoid the legs that kicked wildly in all directions. She couldn't see the deer from where she stood, but when Gale reared back his bow and let the arrow fly, it was only a split second before the animal went silent.

"Damn, Katniss," he said, sauntering back to her, "What's going on with you? You haven't missed like that in years."

"Bad day," she grumbled, picking up her game bag and heading for her kill. It was WAY too big to get back to the District 13 base on her own – or even with Gale's help- but she carried a couple of homing beacons for just such an occasion. Once they were back inside, guards would come out to fetch anything they couldn't carry back themselves.

"Sorry," she said looking down at to the dead animal. The apology was truthful. She was, if nothing else, an ethical hunter when she could be. She always made it a point to take prey down on the first shot to save them from having to suffer.

She attached the tracer to the skin of the deer's right foreleg. A button on the device, once pushed, cast a small domed force field over the kill to keep it from being disturbed by other predators. Generally, she couldn't stand using the things. She always imagined herself underneath the invisible barrier, banging on the walls of it, screaming to be set free. Her thoughts would then immediately turn to last night of the quarter quell. She could still feel the arrow in her hands. In the ugly scar on her arm, she still knew the stab of Johanna's knife as she dug through muscle and sinew. The chaos and screams and explosions rang in her ears. Above them all was Peeta's voice calling for her in the dark.

If she'd just found him first, maybe none of this would be happening.

Gale's voice cut through the memory, calling her back to the present.

"Bad day?" Gale said sarcastically, "Bad ___week_is more like it."

He took the tracer from where it sat limply in her hands and set the force field himself. He usually did this part anyway, but she'd been trying to work up the determination to push the button herself. She was making progress. The fact that she'd gotten as far as attaching the tracer was a feat in itself.

Katniss sat back in the grass, her arms loosely around her knees, giving the deer the same thousand mile stare it was giving her.

"Lets just cut to the chase and say its been a bad life, okay?" she replied morosely, taking a stick off the ground and breaking it into little pieces.

"Well," he said, sitting beside her and handing her another stick, "At least you're not alone. You have plenty of miserable company."

After destroying the second twig, she began to feel restless and stood. She took an arrow, knocked it back against the bowstring and fired straight into a tree thirty feet from where they stood. It hit dead center into a knot about four feet up.

"Good shot," Gale remarked.

Katniss glowered, "I was aiming for the chunk above it."

She slung another arrow from her back and tried again. When she hit the spot she was aiming for, she readied another shot at a branch higher up. As she perfected her line of sight, Gale leaned against the fallen trunk she'd been hidden behind when the deer approached.

"Are you ever gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked, as her fingers released. The arrow hit the branch, breaking the end off and sending it crashing to the ground.

She bit her bottom lip, lining up a fourth shot to avoid having to look at him, "I just want to go. I'm ready to get into the fight, Gale. The waiting is make me stir crazy."

"Well, you're gonna get your wish," he told her, "Last test is in a few days then we're gone."

"Think they'll be okay here without us?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't they be?"

___Thunk! _Her last arrow hit the ground in front of the tree. She stormed across the expanse to retrieve it with the rest. When she got back, Gale was slinging his own quiver from his back. He'd traded in the specialty arrows for a dozen steel tipped bolts for the day's hunt. Typically, explosions tended to scare the prey away. He handed the arrows to her and she thanked him, packing the ones she'd retrieved into it and taking her spot again.

She hit the tree with one arrow after another, enjoying the gratifying _thud_ as each one was imbedded into the trunk. She and Gale had gained more than enough prey and still had time before they had to return to the base. She used the daylight for target practice, trying to make up for the last two weeks of distraction. Gale was right. They were heading out soon and she was gonna be on the hovercraft to the Capitol if it killed her.

"What's going on?" he asked, after she'd gone through the entire quiver a second time.

"Just stress," she said, waving it away.

"Stress?" he said doubtfully, "You've been stressed since you were twelve and I've never seen you shoot this bad."

She pointed the bow down and brought her face up to the sky in exasperation, searching the clouds for the fortitude to not point the arrow at him instead.

"Fine," she said hissed, "let's just go."

"I don't want to go yet," he said, firmly, "I want you to tell me why you've been so distracted lately. How is that in two weeks, you go from happier than I've ever seen you to...this?"

His hand gestured to her as though his meaning should be obvious.

"What the hell does that mean?" she spat, flinging her bow to the ground. She stepped on the arrow as she approached him, hearing a satisfying ___crunch_as her boot stomped down upon it.

"It means that whatever you were doing two weeks ago, you should consider taking it up again," he said sharply, "You're starting to worry people."

"Like who?" she shot back, her face burning red.

"Like me! Like you mother, and your sister," he relented, "Katniss, a month ago you were practically singing. Your cheeriness was driving Johanna bat-shit crazy. She kept saying she was gonna stab you in your sleep, but apparently you've been sneaking out of the room a lot of nights."

Though the sneaking around accusation was more to the point of what he'd said, she couldn't get past the particular word he'd used.

"Cheeriness?" she scoffed.

"That's the best word I can think of," he said defensively, "I've never seen you like that."

"And now?" she seethed.

"It's like you're working harder than ever to push people away," he told her, "What happened to you? You can tell me anything. You know that right?"

_Not anything, _she thought to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Gale, and explaining ups and downs of sexual intimacy with his rival for her affections would definitely fall under the category of emotional harm. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

She picked up her bow and slung it over her shoulder, "It's just stress. Let's head back."

"It's not just stress," he countered, "Katniss, you tried to kill yourself."

"No, I didn't," she yelled hotly, "I told you-"

"I know," he said over her, "You went in there to think, accidentally knocked down the shelf, and hit your head. I know the BS story you're telling everyone. You wanna stick to that line with the rest of them, go ahead. But don't think for a second that you can lie to me. I know you better than that."

He stepped forward until he was inches away from her and placed his hands on her shoulders, sliding them up along her neck until his fingers wound their way up behind her head, keeping her from looking away from his pleas for answers.

"Pulling you out of that closet was one the worst moments of my life," he said with the sort of quiet intensity that Gale was a master of. The pain in his eyes told the story of the moment when he opened the door and pulled her limp body away from the danger she was allowing herself to fall into. Almost immediately after taking in a lungful of air, she'd vomited all over the hallway floor. Gale had left her on her hands and knees, retching up the the chemicals while he ran to a white phone built into the wall. He'd made two quick calls, then he'd slung her over his shoulder and carried her up to the showers on her floor. Johanna had met him there and aided him in stripping her down to her underwear, washing her skin clean, rinsing her eyes and forcing enough water down her throat so that she threw up again. When she'd awoken hours later in her bed, he'd been waiting beside her. He stayed only long enough to make sure that she'd be okay- physically at least- then left the room without a word.

They hadn't spoken of it since. Until now.

"How did you know where to find me?" she asked. Ultimately, she was grateful that he'd been there to drag her out of the trap of her own despair, and even more thankful that he hadn't felt the need to bring it up, but his silence on the matter had left mystery, "Why were you wandering the halls after 'lights out'?"

"Don't change the subject," he said quickly, "Tell me what's going on."

Her mouth opened, but she found it very hard to get the words off her tongue. It felt like the truth was stuck to the roof of her mouth, unable to escape past her lips.

"Don't," he pressed, "Don't try to come up with whatever lie you think I'll believe. Just tell me honestly, what was going through your head."

When he looked at her like that, so intent, so hurt by her actions, she didn't think she had it in her to come up with a story. So she told him the truth, or as much of it as she could without adding to his uncertainties.

"I had a bad moment, okay?" she said steadily, "I went in there to think and sort through the garbage in my head and then I got stuck in it. I hated everything about myself and everything in the world that was outside that door. I got angry and I started throwing things. When that didn't make me feel better, I ripped the shelf down and it broke the light. I couldn't see my way to the door. The fumes hit me, and I passed out."

"So why are you telling everyone that you hit your head?"

She put her own hands up to his face, giving him a level stare, "Because I didn't try to find the door. I made a stupid, rash decision to sit there and let it happen."

Gale crumbled in her hands. His face dropped forward onto her shoulder to hide the anguish that her admission had brought him. She hooked an arm up from below his shoulder and let the other hand glide to the back of his neck. When she spoke again, her voice was thick in his ear, "Gale, I didn't go in there thinking I was going to try to off myself. I was trying to find a solution to the mess I'm stuck in but when the light went out, I thought, 'Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the answer I've been looking for the whole time.'"

"That's never the answer," he whispered, pulling her closer.

"I know that. I'm sorry," she replied, wrapping her arms closer around him to bridge more of the distance between them. She laid her head on his shoulder, tilting her ear towards his. It was first time she'd been that close to another human being in over two weeks and the feel of him clutching to her made her realize how much she missed this kind of contact. She needed the steadfast embrace of her best friend to keep her solid at the times when she wanted to fall apart at the seams. She shuddered to think where she would be without him.

"You come to me next time you start feeling that way. We'll work it out. I'm not losing you over a ___bad moment__,_" he told her, emphasizing his request, by running his hands up her back. He stroked the braid on her head all the way to the unplaited hairs that curled on the bottom, "I'm your friend. Whatever else there is- or isn't- between us, don't forget that."

She nodded against his chest, unable to say a word for fear that the unshed tears she'd been carrying around would burst through in a racking sob, and she would be forced to tell him everything.

It didn't surprise her in the slightest when he pressed his lips against the skin just where her neck and shoulder met,. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of pine and leather that always accompanied Gale. No matter where they were, he smelled like home.

He made his way up and along her jaw, planting scalding kisses on her skin, leaving a searing trail that kept her in the present and away from the guilt that tore at her insides. When Gale's mouth reached hers, his lips were smoky like a campfire, spicy like cloves. The bow dropped from her shoulder just as the game bag hit the floor at Gale's feet. She wrapped her hands in the front of his shirt, gripping it desperately to keep him from going even a inch further away from her. She crushed her mouth against his, enjoying the immediate response of his tongue as he pushed past her teeth. His hands clasped her tighter against him, while hers traveled south to the bottom his shirt, where she reached underneath to place her palms against the smooth hot skin of his stomach. Gale's eyes shot open at the feeling of her ice cold hands, but refused to let it stop his assault on her mouth. In two steps, he had her back against a tree, where he could keep her close while letting his hands roam over her clothes. Finally, after some blind searching, he found his way under her shirt to the skin of her waist, relishing the slight curve he found there.

His hands were so tentative on her, so unsure, that she'd begun to wonder if something was wrong. He was being careful with her in a way he never had before, and she didn't want that. She needed his rough hands traveling her skin, but he didn't move them from her hips. His lips remained fastened to hers, only leaving to occasionally trail along her jaw, but never dipped below her ear.

The memory of being pressed into the floor and fucked to the edge of insanity flashed behind her closed eyes and through every nerve in her body. She wanted him to do that again. Why was he being so hesitant?

Her fingertips dug into the muscles of his back and her teeth bit seductively down on his bottom lip. She reached blindly for the belt loops at either side of his hips and pulled his pelvis to hers, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire.

He broke away, taking a step back to compose himself. His hands went to the tree on either side of her.

"Damn, Catnip," he breathed huskily, smiling widely, "What the hell's gotten into you?"

He'd been trying to get that kind of response out of her for over a year, but hadn't come anywhere near to what he'd just experienced. Even a couple of months ago back in the woods of District 2, her kisses had been withdrawn and cool. She'd let him take the lead, simply responding to his lips on her skin. This new aggressive version of Katniss was both sexy and confusing at the same time.

Her cheeks were flushed as she looked back at him, bewilderment crossing her face, then a dawning as if she'd just realized something horrible. She tried to flee, but was only met with his arm to her side. Her hands took hold of his arm, trying to shove it away as she ordered in a panic, "Move."

His arm dropped from the tree, giving her the room to escape. Without a word, she skirted around him, picking her bow up from the ground as she went. Gale grabbed onto the strap of her game bag and went after her.

"Katniss!" he hissed. She ignored him, her face become more of a scowl with every step she took.

"Come on!" he shouted, "What the hell is going on with you!"

He attempted to grab her, but she ducked under his hand and kept moving. Finally his hand darted out and he roughly took her shoulder, swinging her around to face him, taking hold of the other arm to keep her in place.

She fought to get out of the hold, "Let me go!"

"No," he shouted, "You tell me what the hell just happened."

"_LET GO!" _she screamed in his face, attempting to to wriggle out of his grasp. She knew she should have been able to get out of the hold, but Gale, who'd begun his training months ahead of her, knew every move she was about to make and countered it. He was strong from the months of training, and years of tracking prey had given him the endurance to hang onto her until she was too tired to fight him.

As she struggled against him, they continued to scream at one another; him demanding that she tell him everything, while she attempted to pull out of his grasp, wailing her displeaure at being trapped. Soon the desire to throw the whole truth at him became overwhelming. Nothing would make him retreat faster than leanring the dirty details of the things Peeta had done to her on those nights she wasn't in her room. Hearing about what thoughts of those nights _still_ did to her, would break him and at the moment, she didn't care. The words had almost reached her mouth when a voice from the path, called them out of their screaming match.

Gale turned abruptly, still holding Katniss by the wrists, to find a gun trained on him. Three men were on the path, two had their weapons cocked back, ready to fire.

"Soldier Hawthorne," called one of the men in a curt tone. He stood between the two guns, showing his authority by being the only one without a weapon in his hand. He strode forward between the two guards, his dark eyes surveying the situation, "I'm going to have to insist that you take your hands off the lady."

Gale's hands retracted in a second, and he stood at attention, looking straight ahead. Katniss stood, giving him a glance to make a cutting remark. She stopped herself when she saw how wide his eyes had gotten.

The unarmed man approached, smiling in a way that he must thought was sweet. He was somewhere in his late 20's, only a few inches taller than Katniss with rich brown skin and a barrel chest that he stuck out pompously as he walked. His uniform had four stripes, indicating that he was a man of decent rank. As soldiers ascended into the military hierarchy, they lost a stripe at each level they gained, the idea being that the smaller the number of stripes on the shirt, the fewer there were who held that particular rank. It also helped for new recruits who could spend less time trying to figure out their place against someone else and more time training. Currently, Katniss's uniform had seven dark gray stripes on the sleeve. Gale was down to five.

In retrospect, she probably should have saluted the officer, or stood straight the way Gale was. If her lack of formality bothered him, he didn't let it show.

"Soldier Everdeen," he said with a nod, "Its good to finally meet you."

Beside her, Gale breathed out a warning, "Careful," as the stranger continued his advance. The officer extended his hand once he was in range. Katniss frowned and didn't take it.

"I'm Aldred Carr," he said expectantly, as though she should know who he was. When she didn't reply, he continued, unfazed, "Is there a problem here?"

She shook her head, "No problem."

Carr peered at her through slitted eyes and turned his mouth up into a grin, "Are you sure? Because I could hear you screaming all the way from the gates, which is where you both should have been eight minutes ago."

Gale was starting to sweat as the seconds ticked by, but he didn't make a move.

Katniss did her best to look unconcerned, "Sorry we're running late. Everything's fine. We were just...having a discussion." She peered around Carr and added, "Can you ask your men to point their weapons somewhere else?"

Carr glanced back to the men on the road and with a jerk of his head told them to withdraw.

When he turned back to Katniss, the plastic smile seemed to be stuck to his mouth, "Come on back. I won't rat you out this time. Just be more careful in the future." He spun toward the road and began to walk slowly enough for her to catch up and walk beside him. She looked back at Gale who'd gone pale as he followed behind them. Once inside, Katniss did her best to part ways with Carr- Gale was out of sight the moment the gate shut behind him. She attempted to escape Carr by heading for the labs, claiming she had to ask Beetee about her bow. A hungry look entered his eyes, and he insisted on accompanying her.

He spent the entire trip down telling her gruesome stories of his time as a spy in District 2, apparently under the impression that being a victor meant that she would appreciate the carnage.

She didn't.

When they reached Beetee's lab down in Special Weaponry, she was rescued by the guard on duty, who informed Carr that he was needed back upstairs for processing of a new prisoner.

"Tell them I'll be up in a minute," he told the guard before opening the door for Katniss and ushering her inside. She couldn't help the feeling that he was keeping her a few steps ahead so that he could get a look at her from the back. It sent a chill up her spine, and she had to hold in her shudder of revulsion.

When she first entered through the door, her line of vision consisted of six feet of wall to her left, a weapons testing area to her right and Beetee's desk which sat straight ahead. Almost every time she'd ever come in here Beetee had been practically glued to his desk, making calculations or tinkering with a new invention. More often than not, Gale was beside him helping to take down Beetee's dictations. Today, the desk was empty, though she could hear hushed voices coming from behind the wall. When the heavy door closed behind her, the room went silent. In three steps, Carr was ahead of her and past the wall, announcing his presence in the rudest way possible, "I see since I left you've done nothing but waste time down here. Honestly, how do you live with being so useless?"

To her, that seemed unnecessarily harsh for Beetee, whose efforts were integral to the success of 13's war efforts. She stepped forward, working hard to resist the urge to take something heavy and hit Carr over the head with it. She didn't see Beetee, but Gale's face was visible over the top of Carr's bald head. When he saw her in the doorway his eyes went wide again, causing her to hesitate. With a quick nod, he gestured for her to go back the way she came. Under normal circumstances, she would have added Gale to her list of people to clock over the head with a heavy object, but he looked so serious. So worried. That alone would have been enough to heed his warning and she would be out the door already, if she hadn't heard the reply to Carr's insult, which most definitely did not come from Beetee or Gale.

Peeta's voice rang clear through the room, "Years of practice. How do ___you _live with your head up your ass?"

**_Thanks for reading. Please r&r. I'd love to get some feedback on what you like and what you think i could be improving on. _**

**_Next chapter is coming soon. _**


	4. Pray in Disbelief

_**I've made it to chapter four and I'm so glad you're hanging in there with me. Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and advice. It means more than I can say.**_

_**Thanks SolasVioletta for your awesome beta reading. **_

_The words on the screen reads indicted_

_The picture's a broken scene._

_How tough love feels, it's what you need._

_All these removed and reminded_

_Of a time when this wasn't me,_

_And we were still the best of friends._

_I hope you'll be oka__y- _ "_Half Measures" -The Prize Fighter Inferno_

* * *

As Peeta's voice filled the room, everything in her screamed for retreat, but her feet refused to take her past the door. Gale, who was still looking at her, must have seen her go pale. His eyes studied her curiously, puzzling at her strong reaction.

Gale focused on her for a second longer, before she saw him flinch at the sound of the sickening crunch of bare knuckles against the unyielding bones of a human skull, coming from behind the wall. In the commotion of the sudden violence, Beetee's voice rang out, practically screaming at Carr to get out of his lab. Katniss balled her hands into fists and was about to give Carr a piece of her mind- and possibly a few punches for himself- when Gale, using the officer's distraction to his advantage, actually put his hand out and shook his head in earnest.

___Don't__, _he mouthed to her.

She put her hands up in a silent question, ___What's going on?_

___Later_, he replied with a jerk of his head toward Carr, indicating that "later" meant when the officer was gone.

Gale watched her narrow her eyes at him. Despite his mute protests, she leaned her head around the stretch of wall and called for Carr's attention.

"Oh, Aldred?" she sang in a much higher voice register than should have belonged to her. There was a strange, simpering smile on her lips and Gale could see the strain it took for her to keep it in place

Carr turned his intense stare on her, the grin on his mouth not reaching his eyes. As he turned his body, she got a view of Peeta who was on top of the work table in between Beetee and Gale. Carr had ahold of him by the shirt, keeping his back off of the metal, halfway between sitting up and lying down. Peeta's right eye was already welling up. She gave him a quick glance, trying her best to reassure him, but he only glowered at her and gritted his teeth.

"What's ___she _doing here?" Peeta spat.

Katniss ignored him completely, or at least as far as Carr could see. She wanted the wretched man as far from this place as she could get him and thought she knew a particularity disgusting experience that the twisted bastard might enjoy. She looked him dead in his black, soulless eyes and dropped her voice down to almost a whisper, "Have you ever skinned a deer?"

A malevolent glint flashed through his eyes at the thought of eviscerating a large animal.

"I can't say that I have, little Mockingjay," he replied with a tone of oily excitement that nauseated her when it reached her ears, "You wanna show me how its done?"

The muscles in her face felt as though they were fighting back against her conscious effort to smile. This man was depraved, sadistic, and she could see at the very center of his being something that might have been good once that was now rotting away. His gaze took in her figure and she had to force herself to keep from throwing up bile at the idea of what toxic thoughts were behind those eyes.

"I can teach you a couple of things," she said, trying to keep up the act, the one she'd gotten so good at during her first Hunger Games, "Why don't you go take care of your paperwork and meet me down in the butcher shop?"

She had no intention of going anywhere near the butcher shop. In fact, she was fairly certain that the moment she and Gale had entered the base and turned over her game bag, soldiers had gone straight out to fetch the deer and it was very likely already on its way into becoming a meatless carcass by now.

"Now that sounds like quite an experience," his teeth showed behind his disgusting grin.

"Oh," she replied with a fake expression to match his, "It's thrilling."

In all honesty, butchering an animal of that size was a grisly process. There was too much blood, and the guts went everywhere once they were released. She shivered as she realized that was what he would likely enjoy the most. The more revolting the task, the more effort he would put into it. He would have made a hell of a tribute and the gleam in his eyes told her that if he'd been reaped, he would have used carving up the others as part of his strategy.

Carr turned back to Peeta and in a quick motion, took him around the neck and slammed his head down into the metal surface with a sickening ___clang__. _She had to work hard not to jump at the sound. Once he hit, he didn't move.

Carr eyed the length of her body one more time, then sauntered out of the room, "Guess I'll see you in a few then."

She watched him leave, waiting until the door was closed and latched before the raging shudder attacked her body. She looked up at Gale who'd appeared right behind her.

"What the hell?" she croaked. The looks Carr kept giving her flashed in her vision, and she had to suppress the urge to expel the few bites of food she'd eaten that day.

Gale laughed mirthlessly, "Looks like you got yourself a date with Sergeant Asshole."

"What was that about?" she demanded. His mouth opened to reply, but Beetee's voice came from around the wall to stop him.

"Gale," he warned.

Immediately Gale clammed up, glancing sheepishly away as he did. Katniss side stepped him and went around the wall, finally getting a look at the effect Carr's outburst had taken on the room. Papers were strewn on the floor. Beetee's meager meal was splattered across various pieces of high tech equipment and the man himself looked somewhere between a heart attack and a blind rage.

And then there was Peeta.

He looked terrible. She hadn't seen him since their final night in the supply closet. In only a couple of weeks, he seemed to have lost all the weight he'd gained since his rescue. His eyes- or at least the one that wasn't turning purple and bruised- was sunken and a blue tinge beneath it told her that he hadn't been sleeping much. He was out cold, still lying on the work table, his right leg, hanging off the edge, while his left lay stretched out. The loose cotton pants had been pushed halfway up his thigh, revealing the spot just below his knee where his flesh stopped and a series of rods that made up a metal skeleton began. She hadn't gotten a good look since the train ride before the quarter quell and even then, she'd come to know it more by the feel of it pressed against her own leg. It really was a remarkable appendage. The Capitol doctors had designed it to be sturdy enough to last a lifetime, permanently bonded to his flesh, complete with sensors that would communicate with his brain so that he would know when he took a step. He swore to her that it felt "almost real" sometimes.

A few days before they were set to return to the arena, Portia had surprised him with a second trip to the Capitol doctors who had placed the leg for him months before. When he returned that night, he had synthetic skin covering the prosthetic, that held in place a series of silicone muscles and tendons. It was all for aesthetic purposes. Plutarch's idea. Just in case Peeta might have a reason to remove his clothes, the game maker wanted to ensure that the viewers wouldn't have to be reminded of the circumstances which forced the removal of the limb in the first place, especially if Katniss was getting naked beside him. It was his job to make sure that in the event that such Hunger Games history was being made, a hunk of black metal wouldn't take anyone's eyes from the screen. Looks aside, the skin gave him a deliberate advantage. It was water proof and more resilient than actual human skin to protect the gears and rods inside. The only downside was that the creators had been ordered to weave pain receptors into the synthetic flesh. Plutarch had done what he could to stop it, citing it was unfair on the grounds that Chaff wouldn't be forced to wear a fake hand, but circumstances were different. Chaff could get around without a hand. No one could go too far on only one leg. Plutarch's duty first and foremost was to make the games interesting. Keeping one of the "star crossed lovers" of District 12 pretty and alive, was the most interesting thing he could think to do.

Katniss, walked the length of the metal leg. The fake skin and muscle were in a twisted pile beside the artificial bones.

"What are you doing?" she asked Beetee as he bent over a metal rod that bent out a strange angle.

Beetee smiled at her from above the rims of his glasses, "Good to see you too."

She smiled with a roll of her eyes and headed for the small small kitchenette in the lab that was made for researchers, such as Beetee, who were often too engrossed in what they were doing to get upstairs for meals. In one of the drawers, she found two white towels. One she threw over her shoulder; the other she filled with ice from the refrigerator while Beetee spoke, "Peeta has been having trouble walking the last week or so. He's been down here with us so I can design him a new prosthetic."

She turned back, her eyebrows raised in admiration.

"You're making him a new leg?" she asked, impressed. Gale passed her, taking the empty towel from her shoulder as he returned to the table with a bowl of water, soaking the cloth in the bowl as he went.

"Yes," Beetee replied, using a tool to heat the metal rod. With a pair of pliers, he bent it in the right direction and fitted it into place before it had cooled down, "the Capitol's design is truly something impressive, but there are too many factors that they weren't counting on."

She gathered the loose ends of the towel in her hand and twisted the bundle of ice into a ball, which she passed to Gale. He handed her the wet cloth out of the bowl.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well," he said, watching her use the wet towel to gently clean the blood from Peeta's face. A cut above his eyebrow had opened up and a red streak was running down the side of his forehead. Carr must have been wearing a ring on that hand, "I doubt they were counting on his life being quite as exciting as the last year has proved to be. I think he could use something a little sturdier."

He pointed to a screen which showed the blueprint of a titanium skeletal leg complete with rotating joints, and every bone down to the toes.

"Are you gonna make him a new covering?"

"I've considered it, but honestly the synthetic skin they grafted is top of the line. The only adjustment I might make is to add some extra sensation points such as pressure, heat and cold receptors so that he can feel something in it besides discomfort. Adds a little variety."

"Sounds useful," she grumbled, as Gale helped roll Peeta onto his side so that she could get to the back of his head.

Beetee watched her actions thoughtfully for a few moments before adding, "You know that he wouldn't do that for you, don't you?"

She glanced up at him and met his pitying eyes. After a beat, she nodded in a agreement, "You're probably right," before returning to her task.

"What are you gonna do about Carr?" asked Gale, leaning Peeta onto his back on the table. She held out her hand for the ice pack, and he passed it over.

"Right now, I'm thinking I'll keep hitting him until he figures out that I'm not interested," she said venomously. She put the ice towel onto Peeta's purple skin and held it in place. Peeta moaned in his sleep, his features wincing instinctively at the cold. Katniss turned back to Gale, "Does this happen a lot?"

Beetee answered, not looking up from where he was fitting pieces of metal back into place, "Its very rare that Carr makes an appearance himself. Usually one of his thugs will be down here standing guard, but not today. He had no one to send."

"Not surprising," Gale agreed, "There's too many prisoners and not enough guards. Just about any infraction gets you locked up these days." He turned to Katniss and added, "Hell, if he hadn't wanted to meet you, we'd probably be sharing a jail cell by now."

"Its that bad?" she asked, dipping her hand back into the water to retrieve the wet cloth.

"Worse," Beetee assured her, "It doesn't help that all of his guards keep getting reassigned."

He looked up at Gale as he said it and both men laughed, "Reassigned to cushier positions with more freedom and privilege than he'll ever see."

Katniss wasn't listening. Her eyes were glued to patch of purple skin on the inside of Peeta's wrist. She'd seen it while she was reaching around Gale to the water bowl on his far side. The mark was about an inch wide and circled the entirety of his wrists just below each of his hands.

"What's this?" she asked, pushing the sleeve up past Peeta's elbow to reveal a myriad of scars caused by blades, heat, and what she could only assume was rope that had been bound too tightly. Gale let out a low whistle.

"Shit," he breathed out, "You seeing this Beetee?"

Beetee glanced up from his work, "You two seem surprised."

"I _am_ surprised," Katniss assured him, reaching down to the bottom of Peeta's shirt and pulling it up to check him for more damage, "He didn't have these when he came back from the Capitol."

"You know that for sure?"

"Very sure," she said firmly, "Where did they come from?"

Beetee gave her another look of sympathy, "I think you know the answer to that, Katniss."

She turned her eyes back down to Peeta who was slowly beginning to stir, hurrying to smooth his shirt back down.

There wasn't as much damage on his chest. Almost all of the trauma was on his wrists. Her mind didn't have to wander too far to imagine what Carr and his goons had done to him. It would be the simplest form of torture imaginable. All they would have had to do was string him up and wait for the flashbacks to come.

She put her hands in front of her on the table, trying to not be sick. It was as though her entire body wanted to expel this image in her head of Peeta hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, going into a blind panic. With no one there to help pull him back, it could have taken hours for him to wear himself out enough to calm down and come back to the present reality- one which, unfortunately, was no better than the one he'd been rescued from in the Capitol.

He'd fought. Of course he'd fought, or tried to at least, struggling with all he had against immovable bindings that likely got tighter the harder he pulled on them. She knew the knot. She'd used it a thousand times to make rabbit snares.

Gale had taught it to her.

She shook her head at the thought, trying to literally fling it from her mind. There was no way. No possibility that Gale would stoop so low. Hell, they taught knots during military training. At least half of the people in 13 knew how to make it.

So why did she feel so uneasy?

She gave a glance to Peeta's rapidly swelling face, watching him roll his head away from her as he fought his way back to consciousness. On the inside of his collar, she spotted a streak of bright red blood that she'd missed upon her first cleaning of his face. She wrung out the wet towel and lifted it to the red skin, pulling aside the fabric at his neck with her other hand.

When she saw what was on the underside of his collar, she stopped. The towel in her hand remained suspended in the air above the red spot as she looked at the other markings that decorated his neck. The sight made her blood boil. She felt Gale behind her, trying to pull her back, but she threw him off, getting closer to Peeta so that she could examine the bruises, the ones that were shaped like fingers wrapping around both side of his neck. Lines just under his chin were particularly dark, giving her the impression that he'd been held (maybe even lifted off the ground) by those specific points.

The longer Katniss looked, the angrier she became, and the more she wanted to make Carr pay, to give him a taste of what it was like to have the life crushed out of him. She stared until she was close to hyperventilating, until her eyes had focused so hard upon the purple skin that her vision tunneled and she couldn't see anything else. Gale was behind her saying something, but she didn't hear it. There was nothing else in the world aside from those bruises, so when a hand fell upon her wrist and began to tighten, she didn't even feel it until it began to throb under the pressure of the grip. She ripped her eyes from Peeta's neck, and looked up into his face, not at all surprised to find his eyes open and gaping wildly at her.

She finally took a step back while he sat up with her still in his grip, unable to lift the lock he had on her eyes, unable to even speak. The questions she wanted answers to caught in her throat behind the ball of emotion she'd spent the last seventeen days stuffing down.

Peeta had hold of her by the wrists. They looked at one another through the empty space between her forearms, both becoming more furious by the second.

Gale's voice cut across the tension between them.

"Let go," he said in a low, threatening voice. Katniss thought this was a little rich coming from him, considering not an hour before he'd had her in the exact same position. Peeta pretended not to hear him, while she stepped forward instead of back, until his face was only inches from her own, searching for answers that he didn't want to give.

"I thought we agreed to be straight with each other," she said quietly. Yes, it had been over two weeks since they'd seen each other, and yes, she had ended the relationship with the best of intentions, but at this moment, she felt the urge to dive back in to any broom cupboard, laundry room, bathroom, dark corner, or bit of hard ground they could find, if only he would tell her the truth now.

He cast his eyes down in a moment of indecision. When he returned his gaze to hers, she saw fury in the depths of those oceans. He kept his mouth clamped shut as his hands released hers, shoving her backwards in the process. She was frozen for a few brief seconds, waiting for the shock to lift and remove the paralyzing rage that held her in the space. When her feet came back to her, she took a step towards him again, and when she could feel her arms she used one to slam the bloodied towel onto the table beside him before hastening from the room. Peeta watched her go, still feeling the accusing stare of her stormy eyes on him. Once the door slammed shut, he turned to Gale, who was standing stock still, glaring at the door through which she had escaped.

"Go after her," Peeta croaked, reluctantly. As much as he hated having to ask Gale for anything, he knew how much worse things would get if she went off to spend her temper unchecked, "Please."

Gale caught up to her just outside the door, falling into to step with her as she stormed through the hallway.

"You gotta let this one go," he said as he kept pace beside her.

She stopped, turning furiously, "Did I___really _just hear you right?"

"Let it go," he said again. Before he could continue, her anger boiled over and her hand flew hard across his face. He blinked at her in disbelief, feeling the sting of her palm against his cheek while she waited for a reaction; for him to hit her back, or yell- anything. When he just stood there, she reached up to his shoulders and pushed him with all of her might, shouting at him, "I can ___not_believe you would just sit there and watch that. We have to do something."

A group of soldiers came around the corner, causing Gale to drop his voice, "You need to trust me on this. If you start making threats at Carr, this is just gonna get worse and we're not gonna be here in a few days to do anything about it."

"You knew about this?" she seethed.

"Peeta's been coming down to the lab every day for the last week," Gale told her, "I knew Carr was giving him a hard time, but I didn't realize how bad it was."

"You still should have told me!" she shot at him.

"Actually, I thought it was better if I didn't," he said, levelly, "You've been dealing with your own problems. You don't need to be worrying about this too."

"Then why haven't _you_ done anything?" she demanded bitterly, struggling to keep from shoving him again, "Is this fun for you? Is there some kind of cheap thrill in watching Peeta get his face smashed in?"

Gale turned to ice at her words and he fought the urge to return the slap. He'd never wanted to walk away from her so badly in his life. If she knew half of what ___he_did, what she'd seen in the lab would have seemed harmless.

He grimaced as he spoke in hurried, furious voice, "I've been doing more than my share to keep Carr off his back. It's not my fault that he doesn't know to keep his mouth shut when his ass is on the line. If he isn't careful, he's gonna get himself killed."

"Then we have to-" Katniss began in desperation.

"No,we don't."

Her hand came up again, but this time he caught it, preparing himself in case she sent another his way. Katniss lowered her hands, but never let up the accusing stare that made him feel like such an utterly shitty human being in her eyes. He couldn't believe that barely an hour ago, she'd been wrapped in his arms, kissing him with more passion and fervor than he knew she had in her.

Gale's hands went to her shoulders, "Katniss, Peeta doesn't want our help. He doesn't ___want_us to do anything."

"You still should have told me," she insisted.

"What for?" he asked levelly, "What would you have done?"

"The same thing I did for you," she replied heatedly, ripping his hands away from her, "The same thing that ___he_did for you."

"We're not in 12. Things run a lot differently here."

"And that makes it ok?"

"Of course not!" He was practically shouting at this point and had to take a second to calm himself before he went on, "I know how hard this is on you."

"You___really_don't."

"Yes, I do," he insisted, "Because I had to see ___you_with bruises just like those, and I wanted to KILL _him _for it."

Gale had been pretty up front about that fact from the moment he saw the physical damage that Peeta had done to her upon his rescue from the Capitol.

"There's a big difference here," she shot back, "Peeta didn't know what he was doing. Carr's getting some kind of sick pleasure out of this. Why is he doing it?"

Gale hesitated for a second, looking up and down the hall to make sure that there was no one in earshot, "Carr is extremely dedicated to this District. He's been trying to rise up through the ranks for years, but got stuck at a level four after he got back from spying in District 2. He volunteered for that mission, hoping it'd get him up to a three, but barely scraped out half a rank for his efforts. I don't know why, but if I had to guess, I think its likely that we're not the only ones who see Carr for the sick piece of shit that he is. When he found out he wasn't getting his full promotion, he went to his superiors and demanded more responsibility. They gave him something that they figured was harmless, something not in use at the time: a tribunal that dealt with acts of treason and war criminals.

"Apparently, watching Peeta call for a cease-fire on national television was the best day of his life. He had real responsibility for the first time ever; a high-profile case with a Hunger Games victor as the subject. Honestly, if you hadn't come along, Carr probably even would have won. But then you read your list of demands and in a few words, you made Peeta untouchable by that tribunal."

"He wants Peeta tried?"

"No, he wants Peeta shot."

An image flew through her head of Peeta blindfolded on his knees in front of a brick wall. The word "fire" rang out in Carr's voice and after a series of _bangs_, Peeta flew backwards to the ground twitching as blood blossomed from multiple points on his white shirt.

Katniss leaned back against the wall, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes to try to relieve herself of the nightmarish vision. It was all happening again. Everything she'd done to protect Peeta had gotten him nowhere. All it had done was to substitute one prison for another, one form of torture for the next...and always because of her.

_I'm already in plenty of trouble thanks to you, _his words came back to her in full force.

It was no wonder he wasn't improving.

When she pulled her hands away, Gale thought he would see tears, but her face was dry. He felt slightly disappointed at the sight of her red rimmed, determined eyes. Tears would have been a sign of relenting, and he could have been comfortable with the fact that she was finally seeing reason. If he was honest with himself, he didn't like this any more than she did. It went against his grain. Peeta might have been pretty fucked up in his head, but he was just as much a victim as the rest of them. When the Capitol went down- and Gale was determined that it would fall in flames- he resolved that anyone involved in the hijacking process would become lab rats of their own research before they met their end.

Katniss raised her eyes back to his, matching the unwavering conviction she found there. She was not willing to back down on this.

"I understand what you're saying," she told him, "but you didn't go all the way to the Capitol to get him, just to let the same thing happen here."

"Yeah," he agreed, "and you didn't get him through two arenas just to get him killed now."

Having reached the inevitable stalemate, she stepped around Gale, wanting nothing more than to return to her room and consider what action she was going to have to take in the next few days to ensure Peeta's safety while she was in the Capitol. Gale was calling after her to remind her of their unfinished business from that afternoon, but she was in no mood, nor did she think she could pull herself away from this disturbing new development. All she could do for the present was promise herself that she would take no immediate action that night. She needed to find some clarity first, so that her knee-jerk reaction wouldn't lead her into doing something stupid- like finding Carr and killing the loathsome son of a bitch.

When sleep finally came, it brought nightmares of darkened rooms where gunfire and bloodied faces in the shadows filled every moment until she was screaming herself into wakefulness, flailing in her bedsheets. She fell out of the bed and hit the floor, clutching her chest as she lay there, doing her best not to hyperventilate.

"Will you shut the hell up!" said Johanna from the other bed, "Some of us are trying to sleep here."

Katniss climbed back into bed, still shaking from head to toe, knowing full well that she didn't have to be asleep to see horrible images behind her eyes. By the time the morning came, she was determined that no matter what, she couldn't leave without knowing that Peeta would be safe there without her.

She would fix this. Whatever it took, she had to fix this.

_**Chapter 5 is coming soon. Please review. **_

_**Thanks for reading.**_


	5. This Burden's Mine Alone

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, or events created by Suzanne Collins. I'm just borrowing them. **_

_**Sorry, this is a shorter chapter than usual, but the next two updates should be good and long. **_

_**Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who is reviewing, following, and favoriting. It feels amazing to know that I have so many awesome readers. **_

_**Thank you, SolasVioletta for talking me out of a bad move I was about to make in this chapter. Don't know what I'd do without you. :)**_

"_Don't touch a fresh wound that bleeds all over your carpets the stains,_

___the story book remains,_

___and the page that states you've lied.  
_

___Accept and then reply, acknowledge the other guy,  
_

___Tired in the days that passed away  
_

___sporadically arranged across the floor when you've got it made." _

-Godsend Conspirator

by

Coheed and Cambria

* * *

By the time Katniss was dragged from her bed she was already close to being late. Somewhere just before dawn she'd managed to drop off into a light sleep again, only to be rudely awoken by her roommate.

"Get your lazy ass out of bed," Johanna called from the closet they shared, "Chow's done in ten minutes."

"Mmmm...dehydrated eggs and soggy potatoes," Katniss mused from under the covers, "Wouldn't want to miss that."

Johanna grabbed the thin blanket and ripped it from the bed, forcing Katniss into the, dull, low watt lighting of their room. When Katniss remained immobile, Johanna took hold of her by the ankles and pulled until she was on the floor.

"Ow," she said rubbing her tailbone. She reluctantly stood and went to the closet to dress.

"Sorry about last night," she grumbled.

Johanna made a sound of derision before throwing her shirt over her head, "You know, Brainless, I liked you better when you were sneaking around at night. I mean, you weren't here and even when you were, you were a lot quieter."

"Love you too, bitch," Katniss yawned.

Johanna let out a wild laugh, "You got balls, Everdeen. Lets see you put 'em to good use today."

"Why? What's today?" asked Katniss, lacing her boots.

"Check your arm," Johanna laughed, heading for the door.

Katniss, so used to her routine, hadn't bothered to look at the ink that was printed on her arm. She pulled up her sleeve and read:

_8:00-15:00 Hand to hand instruction: Gymnasium four._

Almost all training went on outdoors whenever possible. If they were in one of the gymnasiums then it usually meant that there was a problem on the surface- either a threat or weather so tumultuous, that the safety of the recruits was called into question. The gyms were too small for all of them to get a proper day of training, so it was most likely another tournament day. At least it would be entertaining.

They wolfed down their unsatisfying breakfast, then headed directly for the gym. Katniss hadn't seen Gale in the dining hall, so when they arrived in the gym, she was glad to see him already there. A few other soldiers were milling around on the other end of the room, stretching and chatting casually. Johanna knew one of them and went over to join the conversation, leaving Katniss and Gale to themselves.

Gale was leaning on the sparring ring with his hands over the springy ropes that made up the barrier. He looked over with guarded eyes as she approached. He was pleasantly surprised when she didn't start yelling at him again. She stood a few feet away from him, taking up a similar position with her knee resting casually on the platform. After their standoff the day before, she figured she would have to be the one to break the tension. She had to ask for his help again and knew in her gut that he would once again tell her to stay out of it, which she was still adamant she could not do. Her sleepless night had rendered her no solid ideas on how to proceed. She didn't trust anyone enough to keep control of the situation who wasn't already slated to go to the Capitol with her. In the end, her options were to stay behind, which she already knew she couldn't do, or to find a away to bring Peeta with her, something which no amount of begging, guile, or bribery could would achieve.

"I'll make a deal with you," he began abruptly, as though their conversation from the day before had never stopped. She clasped her hand over the railing and waited for him to go on, "We're gonna be gone in a couple of days. If I'm right, we'll be on a train to the Capitol in less than forty-eight hours. I need to know that you're gonna be on that train."

"That's the plan," she replied flatly. The idea of staying in District 13 had occurred to her in the middle of the night, while she was staring into the ever changing images on the stucco ceiling of her bedroom. In theory, if she was in 13, she could guarantee Peeta some measure of safety, but to what end? She couldn't tail him 24/7, and if Gale was right about Carr's propensity to lock people away, what was to stop him from throwing her in a cage and doing whatever he wanted to Peeta? Or to her for that matter? After enduring his lecherous stare the day before, she could only imagine what perverse things he would do if he got her alone in a jail cell.

She would have to leave, not just to avoid a violent psychopath, but because she knew that somewhere in the Capitol lurked a slew of doctors and scientists who'd invented the hijacking process that had ripped apart the psyche of the good man who had saved her so many times, who had kept her going through the most traumatic year of her life, and who despite all appearances had loved her unwaveringly (even when he could barely remember his own name, something in him continued to fight for her). Someone had to know how to reverse it and she was determined that violence would abound until she found the answers that she needed to restore Peeta to some semblance of who he had been. If by chance she didn't make it back to District 13, if the mission she was undertaking ripped away her life, then she could die in the knowledge that because of her sacrifice, Peeta would live on and had the possibility of finding his way back to happiness.

"Good," Gale muttered, "Because I called in far too many favors for you to stay behind now."

She looked over at him, taking note of the bags he carried under his eyes. It was obvious that he'd slept about as much as she had the night before.

"What kind of favors?" she asked suspiciously, a feeling of dread coursing through her.

Gale didn't answer at first. As he gazed at her, she could only assume that he was deciding how much of the truth to reveal. It really annoyed her when he acted as though she couldn't handle anything he had to tell her. He'd developed the habit here in District 13, and the more he insisted on keeping things from her, the more leery she became of him.

"If I asked you to trust me and left it at that, do you think you could?" he asked.

Katniss shook her head, "Not with this."

It came as no surprise. He should have known she'd never agree to anything so outlandishly simple as blind faith. When he didn't elaborate, she stepped closer, studying him intently, "Gale, what did you do?"

He turned his eyes back to ring in front of him, avoiding her accusing stare, "I made sure that Peeta will be left in very capable hands."

"Whose?" she demanded.

He shook his head, "Sorry, Catnip. You're just gonna have to trust me."

"So, this is your deal?" she asked coldly, "I promise to go to the Capitol, and you magically fix all of my problems for me?"

Gale let out a humorless laugh, "I couldn't even begin to fix all of _your _problems. But I have a pretty good handle on this one and I went through a lot of trouble to make it that way. So I'd appreciate it if you'd let me deal with it."

"Why won't you tell me?" she insisted.

He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully, "Because you won't agree with my methods."

"Well, the last time I went along with one of your ideas that I didn't agree with, I got shot," she reminded him, "Since when do you stick your neck out for Peeta? Why are you doing this, Gale?"

"I never said I was doing this for him," Gale asserted, as though this should have been obvious by now. After a pause, he added, "What you said yesterday really got to me."

"Which part?"

"Just about all of it," he replied, reluctantly, "I knew what Carr was up to for over a week. I should have manned up and done something about it."

"You think?" she spat. She paused and when she spoke, her voice dripped with bitter disappointment, "I don't expect you to be his best friend, but I do expect you to be mine...And you're better than this, Gale."

Gale hesitated, looking down at his hands as they tightened on the elastic ropes. She saw the sudden downcast of his eyes and the way his mouth twisted in self-disgust, fighting off the feeling of shame that crept through him.

"I tried to telling myself that Carr's actions were justified," he explained, "I wanted Peeta to pay for what he did to you, but I knew you'd never forgive me if I was the one who did it. Look, I'm not proud of it."

Katniss brought her eyes up to the ceiling in exasperation. When Gale turned to her, her hands were on her hips and she was biting her lower lip. Her body language and hardened eyes told him that she was working hard to not deck him. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to face her in the ring today.

"Can you make any guarantees?" she said, finally breaking her silence, "Will these ___favors_you've called in keep him alive until we get back?"

"This is the best chance he's got," Gale vowed solemnly.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. For a second, Gale thought he had her. She looked close to relenting, close to allowing him to do the job he was promising to do. Not that he could undo any of his plans. He'd already opened that floodgate. Whether she agreed or not, there was no going back now. Peeta's protection detail was in the bag. He just didn't want Katniss to do anything stupid in the meantime.

Slowly, and with utter determination, she opened her eyes, blasting him with a defiant stare.

___Shit__, _thought Gale

Before Katniss could make any reply either way, York's voice called them to attention from across the room.

"Hawthorn! Everdeen! Would you like to join us?" she said, firmly.

Without a word, they joined the crowd that had gathered around the officer while she called out assignments for the first rounds. There were fifteen of them competing that day- a smaller group than usual, meaning that they would actually be scored based on the number of hits and drops they got on one another. Before the last group had graduated and left for the Capitol there had been almost fifty soldiers in the room. With so many, the policy had been that the first to put their opponent on their back was the winner. Today they could actually expect to get a few hits in and the first loss didn't necessarily exempt you from continuing to compete.

"Well, hello, handsome," said Johanna under her breath looking towards the door, "What the hell happened to him?"

Katniss was almost afraid to look. It didn't matter anyway- she already knew who Johanna was talking about but she couldn't help herself. She gave a sidelong glance to the door, catching Peeta's broad form ambling towards the edge of the circle. He wore long sleeves and a collared shirt, but they couldn't hide the black eye he'd received the previous day.

Soldier York jutted her chin in his direction, "You in the right place, Soldier Mellark?"

"This is where they brought me, ma'am," he replied curtly. Heads turned at the sound of his voice in the back of the room.

"Then they better get you here on time from now on," she told him, giving a weighty glance to the guards who'd taken their place at the back of the room, "At least you've evened out our numbers. You'll be teamed up with Corin. Everyone, get to it!"

Katniss and her partner- a wiry soldier named Rokus- headed for the supply closet to get pads and gloves. The pads went on the shins, and forearms. The gloves were black and thin, opening at the top half of the fingers. They didn't look like they could protect much, but the gel that padded the knuckles had unbelievable shock-absorbency, protecting both hands and faces alike. She was thankful for any padding she could get because Rokus like to hit hard, making him a formidable sparring partner. He was also one her favorites.

When she'd first begun to train as a soldier, her sparring partners were limited to the handful of people she counted as her friends. Few of the other recruits felt comfortable throwing punches at someone who had left a trail of bodies behind them the way she and her fellow victors had. Rokus had seen her tiny social group as a challenge and had never once backed down from a fight with any of them. Today was no exception. They returned to the mats and practiced while they awaited their turn in the ring.

She and Rokus were in the middle of the queue. She beat him inside of a few minutes and headed back to the mats with her new partner- a guy named Oscher. He was newer than Rokus and not quite used to her and the other victors. When he saw that she was his new opponent, he went pale. They were the first fight in the second round, which ended up easily being the fastest of the lot. Oscher managed to get a point on her before she took him under the legs and put him on his back.

She was about to go to the mats again when Finnick caught her shoulder.

"Stay here and watch me win this. I need a cheering section," he said with a wink, hopping into the ring with a woman a couple of years older than him. She was pretty sure the woman's name was Sullivan. They'd been in a tactics lesson together, but beyond that Katniss didn't know anything about her. Sullivan and Finnick spent about ten minutes in the ring before Sullivan's impossibly long leg landed her shin guard to the side of Finnick's head, sending him sprawling to the ground. He was dazed for a few seconds, but managed to stand on shaky feet. York called their time after that and declared Sullivan the winner, as she was the only one to actually score a point between the two.

Finnick left the ring still shaking his head.

"How'd I do?" he asked.

"Not too good," Katniss replied, "But you looked great while you were doing it."

He grinned, "Well, at least there's that."

Gale lost his match to another seemingly fearless newcomer named Gilbing. He was just under six feet and stocky. He managed to get ahold of Gale by the forearm and swing him around into the elastic ropes which sent him hurtling backwards towards the floor. Gilbing got on top of Gale and pinned both of his shoulders to the ground. York awarded the point then they were up again. Gilbing managed to gain another three points before York called the match.

Johanna was able to beat Neuman by wrestling him to the ground. Once there, her legs went round his head and he seemed to almost give up at that point. His attacks from then on were clumsy and unstructured. When they were on their feet and shaking hands, afterward, his face burst into a sudden grin and a series of words tumbled out of his mouth so fast he was barely discernible in his haste. She wasn't certain, but it sounded as though he'd asked her to dinner. Johanna's face flashed pink for a second before she retreated from the ring without a word. Neuman's grin faltered. He left the ring and stayed on the opposite side for the rest of the day.

Peeta's match was last against a man named Vas. The two of them had been the highest scores in the first round, each receiving a nine, so it seemed likely that one of them would take first place for the day. Vas and Peeta were built from the same mold: eking out their six feet of height with solid frames and barrel chests.

Though much of the crowd had left for lunch or other lessons after the second round Katniss and her friends stood at the edge of the ring, watching the two men grapple with each other. She'd seen Vas sparring with other soldiers, but didn't realize how fast he was until after a couple of times circling, he ducked low, swung his leg along the ground and swept Peeta's feet out from under him.

"Point!" York called.

Peeta was back up with alarming speed and within seconds, had tackled Vas, pinning his shoulders down with both hands. The next time Vas attempted a sweep, Peeta was ready. He leaped back, then threw himself forward before Vas could bring his leg around to stabilize himself on two feet. This time, Peeta had Vas face down on the mat in a hold that Katniss had seen him use back when he was wrestling in school. Once again, York called the point. When the match ended a few minutes later, Peeta had beaten Vas five to four, receiving the last point with a well landed punch to Vas's gut in the last few seconds of the fight.

It was at this point that Katniss began to feel apprehensive. She'd seen Vas fight before and thought he was a shoe in to win. Now, she was one step closer to being stuck in the ring with Peeta.

They broke for lunch and when they returned, York announced the final round. In the penultimate set of matches there were only four people left. York declared that Katniss would be up first against Gilbing. Johanna and Peeta would be following immediately afterward.

Before Katniss stepped back into the ring, Johanna came up beside her to help retie her gloves.

"You think its occurred to her to that pitting victors against each other in front of a crowd might just be a bad idea?" Johanna asked with a glance toward York.

"You'll have to let me know," Katniss replied, stretching her fingers to check the fit of the gloves, "I don't plan on fighting another victor today."

"Don't you dare throw this fight. If I'm stuck in there with Gilbing at the end of this, I might kill the guy. Besides, I think he's already planning to go down before the first minute is up."

Katniss looked around Johanna to see Gilbing standing on the other side of the ring beside Neuman. He was white as a sheet. As if the prospect of sparring with Katniss wasn't scary enough, his options, if he won, were one of two dangerously unstable Hunger Games victors, who had the propensity to snap at the slightest provocation. It was painfully obvious that he had no intentions of being in the final round.

Katniss groaned, before crawling under the ropes to face her reluctant opponent.

"Don't be a bitch, Gilbing!" Johanna called from the sidelines.

Katniss took Gilbing down with one hit. He wasn't knocked out- not by a long shot. He was simply smart enough to stay down once he was there.

As she stepped down from the ring, Katniss caught Johanna by the arm, "Whatever you do, don't lose."

She stood anxiously on the sidelines with Gale, who leaned over to remind her, "Even if Johanna loses, York's not stupid enough to send you back in there."

Johanna strode forward and she and Peeta touched gloves.

"Aren't you gonna tell me not to be a bitch too?" he asked her sardonically.

"Don't have to," she replied, putting up her hands, "I think we both know who the bitch is in this fight."

With that, she swung.

* * *

_**I hope you enjoyed. The next chapter is almost finished. As you can probably guess where this crazy train is headed, I recommend staying on board. There's some fun stuff coming.**_

_**Please R&R**_


	6. Against the Golden Cusp

**_Thanks for reading everyone. I really appreciate the reviews, follows, and favorites. _**

**_This was a really fun chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it._**

**_Thanks to SolasVioletta for her awesome betaing. I'd be lost in a jumble of misplaced punctuation and gaping plot holes without her._**

**_As always, I don't own the Hunger Games, District 13, or any characters created by Suzanne Collins...its just me and Neuman hanging out here._**

* * *

"_Push towards the dance floor_

_And together we'll show them who's boss_

_We'll set a fire once more."_

2's My Favorite 1

by

Coheed and Cambria_  
_

* * *

What began with one punch became a bombardment of attacks. Peeta's hands went up to block Johanna's fists, causing her to land each blow into the guards on his forearms. Thanks to the padded gloves, she barely felt each one, even though all of her force was in each hit. Her shin flew towards his waist and he leaped out of the way to avoid it. As she swung her leg back to land after the kick, Peeta hooked a foot behind her standing ankle and bent his knee towards him, bringing her leg out from under her. She crashed to the floor.

"Point!" York yelled, as Johanna stood.

Peeta was on the offensive now, using his hits to drive her around the ring in any direction he wanted to send her. Johanna kept her defenses up and, once close to the ropes, stood her ground and pushed out against his chest with her hand, getting enough distance that she could begin to hit back. She got a point with a good hit under the chin, sending his head back and making the light bruises on the skin of his throat stand out for a split second.

"What's going on with your neck?" asked Johanna, in between her punches. She went for a right hook, but Peeta ducked under her arm. He darted to her side and jabbed her blind spot to get another point. She swung out a kick to Peeta's shin, but he pulled his foot back.

"Hickies," he unconvincingly replied, sending his own leg toward her. It landed in her side. She grunted on the impact as York called out, "Point!" Johanna's eyes flashed malevolently and she threw a careless punch towards his face. He leaned back to avoid the contact then brought his fist back in to her shoulder, giving him another hit, then sent a hook across her face. She hit the ground and Peeta got another point when she landed. She hopped up quickly.

"Hickies?" she asked, "You meet a lot of girls in solitary?"

Peeta glanced behind Johanna to see a surprised expression on Katniss's face. Apparently no one told _her _where he'd been hiding the previous week.

"There's a couple of cute girls on guard duty," he replied, as he threw three punches in a row.

When she came out of her defensive position, she hooked her arm and got him across the face, then brought her knee up into his stomach. He doubled over. She took the opportunity while he was bent forward, to grab his calves and pull them towards her, knocking him onto his back.

"_I_ haven't seen any," she laughed, "You sure you're not just taking what you can get?"

She reached out a hand and helped him up.

Peeta rotated the shoulder he'd landed on as he stepped forward.

"Give me a break, Johanna," he said, "Do you really think you're the only woman I've ever seen naked?"

Johanna crouched down. They had shifted 180 degrees so that she now faced Katniss who was turning beet red.

"I'm starting to think I'm not," she said with a laugh, then shot forward.

He grabbed her around the waist as she charged and swung her onto the floor, receiving another point. The score was now 6-3 in Peeta's favor.

"Hey Johanna!" Both turned in the direction of the voice to find Katniss perched up on the platform, holding on to the rails in one of the corners. Using her index finger, she beckoned the other woman towards her.

"Time out?" Johanna asked York.

"You got thirty seconds," replied the officer. Peeta went to the opposite corner where Finnick was graciously waiting with a water bottle. While he was there, he took the opportunity to remove the gray uniform top, leaving him in a sleeveless black undershirt. It was tight against his muscular torso, causing Johanna to do an appreciative double take. Katniss, whose eyes hadn't left Peeta in the first place, pulled Johanna close and whispered in her ear.

There were no excuses for what she was about to do.

"His ribs on the right side are really sensitive," she breathed, "You even look like you fingers are going for them, he starts to laugh like a five year old. He can't help himself."

Johanna's face split into a wild grin. She pulled back, looking appraising at Katniss.

"You fight dirty," Johanna laughed, taking a step backwards, "I'm gonna go win this and afterward, you're gonna tell me how you know that."

Johanna went back toward the ring and waited for the signal from York.

"What was that about?" Peeta asked, jutting his chin towards Katniss who watched amused from the corner.

Johanna grinned, "Your little girlfriend's afraid to get in here and fight you so she told me how to beat you."

Peeta lowered his hands slightly, "You're not gonna flash me, are you?"

Johanna shook her head, "You missed out on all this a long time ago," her hands outlined her figure as she said it, "besides I think poor Neuman over there would have a heart attack."

She came in for another series of punches, while his hands went up in defense. On the last punch, she faked with her right hand and brought her left in right in between his elbows, taking a chunk of skin into her hand squeezing just hard enough to get a reaction.

A childish grin flashed across his face before he realized what had happened.

"Not fair!" he called, horrified, as Johanna came in for another attack. He managed to push her off before she could touch him again, then turned quickly to Katniss who was laughing behind her hand as she perched on the corner of the ring.

"Not fair!" he said again, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"You better protect that inside," she replied dryly.

From there on out, he defended his inside as though his life depended on it. Try as she might, Johanna couldn't get anywhere near him. When she sent a kick into his side, he took hold of her leg and knocked her onto her back.

"Time!" yelled York.

Peeta reached his hand down and Johanna took it, allowing him to help her up. She swung an arm around his neck.

"When I'm off in the Capitol, I'm gonna miss you most," she said with a laugh, planting as sloppy kiss on his cheek before hopping over the railing.

He wiped the spit from his face and cracked a cheeky grin, "Damn it, Jo! I don't need you drooling all over me.."

Johanna turned around and gave him a wink, "You have other girls for that, don't you?"

Before Johanna could continue, York turned to Katniss, "You're up Everdeen. You ready?"

Katniss ripped her eyes from Peeta and turned to the officer, "Give me one minute."

She jumped down from the platform and approached Johanna who helped tighten the guards on her shins and forearms.

Gale, in the meantime made no attempt to hide his outrage, "You can't be serious, York."

York raised her eyebrows in irritated disbelief at Gale, "Hawthorne, if I was joking you'd know it because I'd start my sentence with 'a soldier walked into a bar.'"

When he tried to protest again, York turned to Katniss who was checking the flexibility of her gloves, "Everdeen! Do you want to go to the Capitol?"

"Yes, ma'am," Katniss replied, looking up from her hands.

"Then get up here and finish this."

Katniss shook her limbs out then hopped up and down on her toes a couple of times to try to loosen her muscles.

"Put 'em up," said Johanna. Katniss raised her arms and Johanna landed a couple of punches into them, "How do they feel?"

"Good," replied Katniss breathlessly. After a beat, she added, "This is a bad idea."

"Nah, he's a pushover."

"He beat _you_," she reminded Johanna as she stepped to the platform. She climbed up, through the ropes, taking the time to compose herself. She kept her back to her opponent as she took in a deep breath. Just below her, Neuman sidled up beside Johanna and whispered, "I got a week of kitchen clean up that says she kicks his ass."

Johanna glanced over the large, gawky man beside her and couldn't help the smile that reached the corner of her mouth.

"You're on," she said.

Peeta missed the exchange as he watched Katniss mentally preparing herself. It was obvious that she was nervous about the match and if he was honest with himself, so was he- not that he let it show. They'd never been pitted against each other so directly and he wasn't entirely sure that this was something they could handle. Not that it mattered if it was a disaster in the end. She'd be gone from 13 in a matter of days so who really gave a shit about the fallout? York didn't care what happened here as long as they didn't kill each other and what Gale and the other victors thought didn't matter to him in the slightest. So why did he feel so tense, so anxious at the prospect of having to spar with her?

Katniss turned to face him and in a quick motion, removed her gray, military-issued shirt. Underneath was nothing but a black sports bra.

_Oh, that's why...I am fucked._

He looked up into her eyes to see determination while a knowing smile graced her lips as if to say, _fair is fair _without blurting it outright.

As he took in her figure, his arms could suddenly remember all the times they'd been wrapped around her, the weight of her, the delicious sensation of pressing her body tightly against his own. His fingertips ached to run along the soft skin of her stomach and dig themselves into her hair. He couldn't help the desire that filled his eyes, nor did he try to conceal it. Only she would understand what it was that he longed for and judging by the way she held his eyes as she sauntered forward, gently swaying her hips, her thoughts were a lust-filled mirror of his own

Suddenly, it didn't matter that they were supposed to be done with one another, or their ill-conceived secret relationship. Here was an excuse to be near each other, a perfectly valid reason to put their hands on each other's skin once more. There was no way that either would be backing out of this fight.

Katniss's heart was drumming so violently in her chest, she could practically hear it pounding in her ears. Now, with every step she took towards him, the sound filled her head and got louder until there was no other sound but the slamming of her heart against her ribcage. As her pulse raced, the flush in her cheeks burned a deep scarlet.

Try as he might to keep his attention elsewhere, he kept looking her over, sometimes in a quick glance to her exposed skin, while other times he'd take a full few seconds to observe every detail. She made no attempt to redirect his attention elsewhere, allowing herself a small flicker of pride every time she felt his eyes on her.

Gale's crumbling objections continued to fall on deaf ears and judging by the faces of the four other people left in the room the only argument was coming from Katniss's best friend. Everyone one else was on board. They understood that this fight was a long time coming and it was better it happened today than never.

"I'm ready," she shouted, breaking off the rant coming from Gale's mouth about things like risk and fairness. She dropped her voice into a low murmur, "Let's do this."

Peeta stepped towards her, tapped his gloved knuckles against hers and together they waited for the signal from York.

"Hawthorne may be paranoid, but he's not wrong," said the officer as they stared one another down, "Your goal is to gain points, not beat the shit out of each other. Are we clear?"

"Yes ma'am," they said together, never breaking eye contact with one another.

"Good," said York before taking a long step back, "Go!"

"Don't forget," Peeta reiterated in a mocking tone as he took up a ready stance, "'your goal is to gain points.'"

Katniss crouched into a defensive position with a rye smile, "I'll try to remember that while I'm beating you."

Peeta struck first. He swung his right fist, missing by inches when she stepped backward. She hopped back a few paces and he followed, throwing another punch once she was in range. When she dodged that too, he sent a kick towards her middle, which she blocked. Her hand went into his shoulder, pushing him back a step from her, then she moved forward with a foot placed in between his. She took hold of his arm, turned her back on him and heaved him over her shoulder onto the floor.

"Point," York's voice rang out.

"Guess I'm doing something right," Katniss told him, leaping backward as he stood.

Peeta hauled himself to his feet and shook out his limbs before meeting her in the center of the ring. Katniss got another point on him when she jumped up and kicked once she was in the air, landing her foot into his chest. He staggered backwards a step then rushed in once she'd landed and tackled her to the ground, putting his hands on her shoulders while his strong legs straddled her hips.

York called the point, but Peeta lingered for an extra couple of seconds. At first Katniss thought he was going to say something about the intimate position they lay in. She gave her head the slightest shake to indicate _Not here, _then pushed out on his chest. He let her light touch guide him back until he no longer hovered over her, then stood, and took her by the arm to haul her to her feet.

They met back in the middle and began again. Katniss started with a barrage of punches. The moment one fist was down, the next was up, keeping Peeta's hands so busy blocking her, that he almost didn't notice her knee as it came up into his middle. He stepped out of range at the last second, coming back in with a hit on her chin as she tried to recover from her kick.

It got him another point. Katniss rubbed her jaw, letting out a whistle, "You hit hard."

"So do you...for a girl" he replied, going in for another hit. She ducked and attempted to grab his arm to throw him again. Instead, he got ahold of her around her bare waist, turned her to face away from him and pressed her face-down into the mat. His body lined up with hers, his mouth just to the side of her neck. He brushed his lips over her sensitive skin behind her ear as he spoke in a low, carnal tone, "Now this feels familiar."

"Point," said York, but Peeta didn't move off right away.

Katniss attempted to wrench herself from his grasp, but he held on tight. He had an arm around her middle, which he used to pull her closer against himself, while his other hand brazenly took hold of her by the thigh. To the outside observer, it looked like part of the hold, but he knew exactly what he was doing. She cursed her body for reacting so eagerly to his touch while her rational mind screamed at her to get as far from him as she could. When he gave her leg a quick squeeze, she rewarded him with a small gasp.

"You got your point," York yelled in warning, "Get off of her, Mellark!"

He reluctantly released Katniss and watched her walk to the corner where Johanna was waiting with some water for her. She didn't look behind her.

Katniss took a long drink then handed the bottle back.

"Remember what I said about this being a bad idea?" she asked, "It turns out I was right."

She turned back to the center and took another deep breath, before stepping forward. Peeta was in the opposite corner with Finnick. The two were laughing at something and while there was no indication that their joke had to do with her, it still infuriated her.

"Let's go," she said, calling Peeta's attention back to the more pressing matter of their fight.

He met her in the middle and they took up their positions once more. Katniss swung, Peeta blocked. Then he kicked and she dodged. She got pointed when she got under his elbows and landed a fist into his stomach. He gained one when he took her by the arm and swung her against the ropes. She bounced off the elastic barrier and hit the ground.

Once again, he came down to pin her back to the mat, "Do yourself a favor and stay down this time."_  
_

"Go to hell!" she spat, as she struggled to rise.

"Been there, thanks," he replied sarcastically. After a moment's thought, he added cruelly, "It doesn't take much to get you on your back, does it?"

"Oh, screw you, Peeta!" she seethed, struggling against his grip.

York was yelling at him again, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the guards who'd been assigned to him starting toward the ring. Peeta released his grip on her and leaned in close so that only she would hear the reply, "Been there, too...thanks." With that, he stood and headed back to their starting position.

Katniss's blood boiled and the world she saw became bathed in red. This time, she didn't wait until she was in the center with him. She took a running start and leaped onto his back, taking him to the ground and hitting him multiple times over the head and shoulders.

At first, York was calling points, but when one of Katniss's blows drew blood and she still didn't stop the assault, York stepped in, "Damn girl! Get off of him!"

Johanna and Neuman jumped into the ring and pulled the ex-lovers away from each other. Johanna dragged Katniss who was kicking and cursing into her corner, took the water bottle and dumped it right into her face. Katniss spit out the water and shook her head, sending droplets around the room. She sheepishly looked up at Johanna, "Thank you."

She looked across to Peeta who was being held on the ground by Neuman and Finnick. There was a gash of red across his cheek (her thumbnail must have caught him), but he was breathing normally and there appeared to be no trace of an episode on the rise. She knew the signs, and one look at him told her that the two men who held him down were unnecessary. His hands were palms down on the ground, not balled up, and his eyes focused assuredly on his surroundings instead of darting around in a panic. He wasn't losing control, just pissed. He'd get over it.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" York spat, looking to each of them in turn. When neither tried to defend their actions, she asked with an impatient huff to her voice, "Who's bleeding?"

"It's just a scratch," Peeta assured her. York took a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to him. She'd learned long ago how involved her soldiers could become with these tournaments and always tried to keep alcohol soaked napkins with her. She offered one to Katniss too, just in case, then returned to the middle of the room while they got themselves cleaned up.

"You good to keep going?" she barked, "You got three more minutes in your match."

They looked across at one another and simultaneously nodded, realizing that they'd both gotten out of hand. They had to pull themselves together. They could do this.

_Right?_

York looked between them again, then with a wave of her arm, called them back to the middle, "Alright, get up here. The score is 24-22 in favor of Mellark. Everdeen if you want this, you need at least three points."

Katniss met Peeta in the middle of the platform once more. Both were awash with a sudden sense of relief when York informed them that their time was almost up. This encounter was not going how either had planned. They'd discovered the hard way that even in the most desperate of times, punching each other in public in no way equated to how they had spent their time hidden in those closets, bathrooms and on one occasion, the cab of an unguarded cargo truck. At the same moment, they realized the ridiculousness of their situation and offered one another an apologetic smirk, counting themselves lucky that at least this was nearly over.

It wasn't until they were standing in front of each other once more, that Peeta was able to appreciate how soaked Katniss was thanks to Johanna's quick thinking.

_Yep,_ he thought to himself again, _I'm fucked._

Not only was she already showing off an inordinate amount of skin but now her nipples were standing at attention and saluting him through the damp fabric of her sports bra. He averted his eyes, knowing full well that if he continued to gawk, the urge to dive headfirst into the bra to join her breasts in a group hug would become overwhelming, and he'd only embarrass himself.

"Not fair," he muttered under his breath.

As they stood on the platform waiting for instruction, she suddenly cleared her throat and crossed her arms. Judging by her expression and the sudden red the bloomed in her cheeks when his eyes flickered to meet hers, she'd caught him looking...at least she refrained from slapping him. He was certain that in a more private setting, she wouldn't have cared in the slightest, but here in the public world, he had to remember to keep his eyes in his head.

"I expect a clean fight from here on out," York demanded, "Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," they said at the same time.

"I hope so. Go!"

Katniss wasted no time. She flew forward with a fist towards his face. Peeta backed up, dodging the punch, but wasn't fast enough to avoid her foot as it impacted with the side of his head. He went down to his hands and knees.

She allowed him the time to stand then went in for another attack, tying their score by planting her fist into his shoulder.

As she curved her arm around into what she hoped would be her final punch, he caught her fist and turned inward, forcing her body to spin away from him and getting her into the same hold she'd wrangled him into weeks before in the supply closet. He twisted her arm behind her back and was trying to force her down to the floor which would have won him the last point and ended the match.

Desperation took over Katniss's mind and instinct kicked in. Her foot flew behind her, searching for leverage to push him away. Once she found something solid, she slammed her heel into it. Instantly, his fingers released their grip and she leapt out of range of the retaliatory attack she was sure was on its way.

She spun around, ready to defend herself, only to find that he wasn't rushing forward to even the score. Peeta was lying on his back, clutching his left leg to his chest. His eyes stared wildly at the ceiling and his mouth was wide open in a inaudible scream that he didn't have the breath to turn into sound. She'd kicked him directly in his bad leg, the one that had been giving him so much trouble. Looking down at his calf, she saw one of the metal bones sticking out at an unnatural angle through a tear in the synthetic skin. Judging by the anguish in his face, the pain sensors were sending his brain into overdrive. He was cursing through gritted teeth and his already fair skin had become pallid and clammy. Tremors racked his body as terror crept its way behind his eyes.

It only took a moment for every shred of her anger to dissolve; to be replaced by fear and the horrifying stab of guilt. She reacted instinctively, despite her panic, rushing to his side to check him over, to reassure him that everything was alright, and to prevent the meltdown that she knew was coming.

York beat her there and with a hand on her shoulder, shoved Katniss back a few feet, "Everdeen, you need to leave."

"Ma'am, I can help," Katniss assured her, crouching down beside the officer. She didn't care who was there, who was watching her or what they heard. She could fix this if they would just let her stay. She _had_ to stay.

One of the guards had made it onto the platform and now had his rifle trained on Peeta's forehead.

"Back up, miss," he told Katniss, "we'll take it from here."

Katniss turned a murderous gaze onto the guard, who practically quailed in fear when he saw the hatred in her eyes. The guard was young- barely fifteen from the looks of him.

"You better point that thing somewhere else," she hissed, wanting to rip the gun from his hand and hit him over the head with it.

"Lower your weapon," York told him. Reluctantly, he took his hands from the rifle and slung it across his back.

Just before she could thank York, Katniss felt herself being forcibly lifted from the ground and dragged backwards. Someone had her around the waist and was pulling her off the platform, ignoring her protests to stay and help. York turned back and yelled, "You get her out of here, Hawthorne."

Gale lifted her and literally flung her over his shoulder as he retreated from the room. She fought, kicking and bringing her fists down upon his back, but he kept moving towards the door.

"Let go!" she cried desperately, but he didn't stop. She looked to her friends for aid, but they were all too preoccupied with what was going on at the platform. The only person to look back at her was Peeta. His hand was stretching out for her as she uselessly reached back across the empty air. The last thing she saw before she was forcibly removed from the room, was the second guard reaching the platform. He pulled the firearm from his back and aimed.

The moment the door closed in front of her eyes, she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

She began to scream.

* * *

**_Just a quick note: My updates will be coming a little slower for a few weeks, but I will be continuing to write with any spare minute I can. Sorry to leave you on such a tense note, but I promise to return very soon. _**

**_Thanks for reading. :)_**


	7. Random Reality Shifts

_**Hey everyone. Thanks for sticking with me after the long break. Life happens and I had to go happen with it. I hope this chapter makes up for my absence. This one's been a challenge and I hope to not disappoint. **_

_**The next chapter won't take quite as long. **_

_**Thanks for the continued support of my awesome beta SolasVioletta- if you guys haven't read her stuff go do that now. Its awesome. Wait! No! R&R this first, then go read her amazing stories. **_

* * *

_"And from the other side she'll save me._

_Her courage strength and heart, beyond. _

_I wish she'd stay mine, but her place is in some other time"_

- Evagria the Faithful by Coheed and Cambria

* * *

Katniss fell to her knees as every ounce of strength drained from her body. All she could do was allow the horror to spew from her mouth in an agonized cry that rippled through her body from the very soles of her feet. Her ears still rang with the blast of the gun and her ribs reverberated with the shock wave.

_What did they do? ____What did those idiots do?_

Gale was beside her on the ground. He put his arms around her, to keep her from running back into the gym, begging her to calm down and trying to reassure her that everything was fine.

How could _anything _be fine? Didn't he hear it too? Didn't he know what that sound meant?

"They shot him!" she yelled hysterically, thrashing in his arms, "Gale! They SHOT HIM!"

Gale kept a solid grip around her middle as she raged and yelled out her grief. There were no tears, only hatred in her mutinous eyes as she attempted again to pull out of his grasp. She wanted to go back in there and rip those guards apart with her bare hands.

_They shot him!_ It was an unstoppable chant in her head that built upon itself every time it repeated._ They shot Peeta! Those bastards shot Peeta! THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS SHOT PEETA!_

Another cry left her mouth and she turned her anger upon Gale, who refused to release his hold on her.

"Why did you stop me!" she demanded, trying to push him off. When he wouldn't take his hands off of her, she began to beating her fists against his chest, "You should have left me there. I could have saved him!"

As he caught hold of her arms, he saw the cracks in her fury begin to appear and watched as the burning anger in her face dissolved into a tortured grimace.

"Gale," she moaned pitifully, "I could have saved him."

He pulled her close, able to feel the misery that was about break through her body. She clung to him for dear life, using everything she had to fight the mass of emotion trying to claw its way out of her. As it reached the surface, it drew a final tormented wail from her lips.

When the scream stopped, a strained choking sound replaced it.

Katniss could barely breathe. Every time she tried, the most she could pull in was a thin, rasping gasp, robbing her of the ability to continue her vocal assault on the empty hall. Her arms crossed over her head, blocking out the sounds of arguing coming from the other side of the wall. She stared at the floor, unable to move- not even blinking- as a wave of shock fell over her. She couldn't keep out the image in her head of the scene in the next room, which featured her lover lying dead upon the platform in a lake of his blood while the two guards congratulated each other on a job well done. Problem solved. She sat still, wheezing in each breath of air, while she replayed the scene in her mind again and again. Gale was speaking, but she didn't understand a word of it.

The door opened beside them, but neither looked up until they were both being dragged to their feet and pulled back into the gym.

"Come on," said Johanna, towing them by the wrists, "York wants you both back in there."

"What for?" Gale asked, giving a wary glance to Katniss who, in her state of shock, had turned her face into a mask devoid of emotion, despite her red rimmed eyes.

"York ordered that idiot guard to give up his weapon and he won't do it," Johanna explained, "She wants you in there for back up."

With that, she unceremoniously shoved him through the doorway, then turned back to Katniss, who was staring ahead with unseeing eyes and a stiff jaw.

"Finnick's up there with Peeta," Johanna said hurriedly, "You think you can pull him out of this?"

It took a few moments for Katniss to process what she'd been asked.

___Pull who out of what?_

"What do you mean?" she asked blankly, allowing some of the fog to lift from her mind to understand the question. The words came out slow and confused. She looked at Johanna through bleary eyes and for the first time ever, she saw true concern in the face of the District Seven victor.

"That stupid kid missed," Johanna explained with a rueful shake of her head, "York rushed him just before he pulled the trigger. He overshot by about eight feet and the bullet landed in a wall. York's pissed. She's already threatening to go to his superior and get his ass demoted."

Katniss didn't hear anything beyond the word "missed." Her eyes closed as she put a hand out to steady herself against the wall, thinking she might pass out. She took in a large breath of air, then released it, feeling the life return to her body as she realized the truth of what Johanna had just told her: Peeta was alive.

Once the feeling returned to her arms, she threw them around her roommate, who was so surprised that her hands went up as though she was being attacked. When Johanna realized that she was actually being involved in an act of affection, she rolled her eyes and allowed it-for about two seconds.

"Ok, get off," she ordered flatly, removing Katniss's arms from her body and shoving her away. Johanna gave a scrutinizing stare at Katniss for a few seconds before she smiled.

"You know," she said, her air of superiority fully returned, "when you started sneaking around those nights, I had a feeling you were off screwing around with someone. Wouldn't have guessed _him_, though."

"Why not?" Katniss asked, making no attempt to deny the allegation.

Johanna gave a soft chuckle, "Because I didn't think you were stupid enough to get involved with someone you actually love."

At any other time, Katniss would have argued Johanna's accusations of both love and stupidity, but decided to wait for a more opportune moment to discuss such details. Right now, she had somewhere to be.

She pushed the door open and walked into the gym.

The first thing she noticed was that almost everyone seemed to be yelling at everyone else. It was fine by her, mostly because it meant that it was unlikely her presence would be noticed until they were all done arguing. She walked through the room, not even glancing at the group that screamed nonsense at one another. Her eyes were focused straight ahead on the ring where Peeta lay still and silent on his back.

Finnick was standing in the corner farthest from her, watching her approach. He met her at the ropes and took her hand, pulling her onto the platform beside him. Once she'd climbed under the elastic barrier, Katniss got her first good look at what she was facing.

Peeta stared unblinking at the ceiling. His mouth opened and closed limply as though he was attempting to speak, but only unformed syllables seemed to reach his mouth. The leg he'd been holding lay limply to the side of his body, apparently forgotten as his mind was consumed by whatever horrible memory he was seeing behind his eyes. The visions terrified him and she knew that the longer he replayed the scene, the farther away he got and the harder it would be to bring him back to reality.

Katniss's instinct was to rush to him, to take him into her arms, assure him that all was well and help him ride out the worst of what he was experiencing, but Finnick held her back. He gripped her hand, stopping her from going towards the incapacitated man who was lying paralyzed in the middle of the floor.

"Is he responding to anything?' she asked quickly.

"I've tried talking to him, but got nothing," Finnick replied, "I was hoping maybe you'd have a better chance. Do you know what you're doing?"

Katniss nodded, trying to look sure of herself, though she'd never seen Peeta this bad off. She removed her hand from Finnick's and stepped forward, "Stay close. Just in case."

* * *

Peeta had been here before. Where "here" was, he had no idea, but the place was familiar enough to fill him with a feeling of dread. There was nothing. No light, no sound. He was lying down, but couldn't feel the surface that supported his back, couldn't feel the clothes on his body, couldn't feel anything at all. His fingers reached out, but there was nothing to grip but open air. He floated silently through a world of perfect blackness.

It would have been peaceful if it hadn't been so damn scary.

How the hell had he gotten here? He vaguely remembered being in a blazing hot room where he'd been pitted against a handful of people- for what? He couldn't remember why he'd had to fight them except that he'd wanted to. He'd had a goal in mind.

Katniss. Her face flashed in the black before his eyes, looking panicked and wild eyed. In a moment, she was gone again.

"Where are you?" he called.

But no answer came. Nothing came out of the crushing black. He searched in every direction but still couldn't see.

Where did she go? She was right here.

He called into the dark, "Katniss!" but it felt as though the darkness had swallowed his voice.

He shouted her name again, but no reply came.

Where was she? He had to find her.

The instant the thought crossed his mind, he found himself on solid ground. It was still close to pitch black but in the far distance, the smallest pinprick of light emerged from the darkness. It was a long way off, miles away it seemed, but it was something.

There was someone there- and they were calling his name.

Once he was upright, Peeta became aware of the cold from the stone floor beneath the skin of his bare soles...both of them. Slowly, he looked down. It was too dark to see, but he could imagine what his feet looked like when he felt the wiggling of all ten of his toes against the smooth ground. The sensation brought an unconscious smile to his lips.

"What the hell?" he whispered, awestruck. His leg was back.

His _fucking _leg was back.

He tentatively put his left foot forward, still expecting that he would fall on his face the moment he tried to put any weight on the limb. To his amazement it held. He expelled a shaky laugh at the feeling of balance, equilibrium, wholeness. He took another step and another until he'd built up a steady pace free of any unevenness or uncertainty.

Finally, he let out an exhilarated breath and broke into an all out sprint toward the tiny light in the distance. He couldn't stop the grin that was plastered to his face as he shot forward, faster than he'd ever moved in his life.

Peeta had always hated running, whether at school, or in the training center, he'd never once been able to appreciate it, but this feeling was unbelievable. He never wanted to stop the fluid movement of his solid feet against the ground. When the phrase "better than sex" crossed his mind, he had to really think about whether it was a fair assessment. Ultimately he couldn't decide. All he knew for sure was that if there was a competition for the best feeling in the world, sex would get a run for its money. When his chest began to burn from exhaustion, he extended his stride and sped up.

The light grew as he got closer, spreading out into the blackness, illuminating the area just enough that he could look down at his matching flesh and blood feet as they touched the stone floor.

Peeta stopped, his chest heaving from the exertion. He watched his left ankle rotate, watched the toes go up and down. On the heel he found the scar he'd gotten as a kid when he'd stepped on a nail in the storage room of his house. His dad had been building new shelves for the cabinets and he clearly remembered the bite of the nail as it went straight through his shoe and pierced his skin.

For some reason, the memory seemed to cause his leg to ache.

He tried to ignore the pain as he continued his journey towards the light, though it seemed to increase with each step. On he went towards Katniss. He was sure she was there, absolutely certain that it had been her voice calling to him. He pushed the stabbing sensation to the back of his mind, forcing himself to take every stride, even when the pain became so great that he was gritting his teeth with each footfall.

After a few more steps he stopped again. He was close, maybe three hundred feet away. He could see that the light seemed to be coming from some sort of doorway. Someone stood bathed in the glow from behind, making it impossible to see their features which remained obscured by the darkness. The figure's arm was raised in greeting.

What stopped him was a large hole that had opened in the ground in front of him. The chasm was thirty feet across and stretched as far as he could see to his left and right. He had only one course- forward.

He would have to jump it.

It was stupid- impossible, but what option did he have? Besides he had an ironically good feeling that this was his best option. He went back about twenty feet from the edge of the chasm and hopped a couple of times to loosen himself up while giving himself a little pep talk.

"Up and over," he said encouragingly. After a few more seconds of looking at the hole, he added, "I'm gonna die."

All the same, he took off at full speed, leaping from the very edge of the pit...and missed the other side by about twenty-two feet.

With a cry of terror, he plummeted into the black pit.

* * *

"What's he saying?" Finnick asked.

Peeta was mumbling something so softly it was almost inaudible, causing Katniss and Finnick to lean in, so they could hear him above the shouting in the corner.

"I'm gonna hit," Peeta strained through his lips, "I'm gonna hit it."

Katniss put her hands onto the sides of his face in hopes that her touch would help him to focus. She leaned even closer, "Hit what? Peeta, what are you going to hit?"

Peeta sucked in a breath. A tremor racked his body and he whispered the word, "ground."

"What does that mean?" Finnick asked her, "What's he doing, Katniss?"

He watched her eyes harden with determination.

"He's falling," she said grimly.

* * *

When he landed, he was on his back again, only this time, he was staring at stars. It was a wooded area, much like the one he'd seen surrounding District 12- only it was on fire. Explosions were going off on either side of him and figures were running past, many ablaze and disappearing in the flames. Smoke filled the air making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Peeta flew to his feet, following the trail that the few escapees had taken. Someone called to him, but he couldn't tell which direction the voice had come from. He continued forward on the path that he could see ahead until he was out of the woods and following a stranger up a hill. Up on a high ridge, over a 100 people he vaguely recognized stood, watching the inferno that raged below. Once he reached the ridge, he fell to the ground, retching up the smoke that came from the homes of his friends, the ash that was once the people he'd known his entire life.

Before he could recover fully, hands took hold of him by the arms and wrenched him to his feet, forcing him into the front of the crowd. He looked back at them, still able to hear the cries going up as the fire consumed its victims. He didn't know this crowd, not really. A few faces he'd seen in the bakery a couple of times, some children from school. He didn't know any names. They were Seam people, all of them.

But they knew who _he _was. Every gray eye in the clearing was focused on him, accusing him, blaming this destruction on him as though they'd seen him start the blaze himself.

_Hadn't he? _

His life was supposed to be part of the annual sacrifice that kept the entire district safe. By having the audacity to survive, he'd brought down destruction upon their homes and death to their families. Even to his own.

The entire crowd faced him with such hatred and disgust that he actually took a step back from the force of the collective glare.

He wanted to defend himself, but his throat, seared from the smoke couldn't produce a single sound and his limbs were like lead, too heavy to even lift, let alone use to fight back. He was helpless as two people from the crowd took hold of him by the arms and dragged him backwards, towards the fire. The flames hit his back and engulfed him.

* * *

"Has he landed yet?"

Katniss flew around.

Gale, Johanna, and Soldier York stood at the ropes, watching every move she made. The officer was up on the platform, ready to spring into action if the situation called for it, but was more or less, allowing Katniss to handle things her own way. Neuman was at the back wall with the two guards, both cuffed, sitting crossed legged and looking furious. With a jolt, Katniss realized that he was the one who had spoken.

Katniss made it a point to look only at Neuman. It was a wonder that Gale hadn't protested this yet. Though she refused to look him in the face, she could imagine the scowl that must be permanently printed there. She determinedly held the eyes of the nervous man who'd asked the question and waited for him to elaborate.

When he didn't go on, she asked fiercely, "What happens after he lands?"

As if on cue, Peeta's arms and legs flailed violently. He opened his mouth and out came a long, agonized roar.

Katniss and Finnick attempted to hold down his hands which were blindly punching the air. Though they were able to control his upper half, his legs were still kicking wildly. York was over the ropes in a second, throwing her entire weight across his knees.

"Hurry up!" she yelled to Katniss. Peeta kept bringing his knees up sharply into York's chest and stomach.

Unsure what else to do, Katniss put her hands on his shoulders, crying desperately, "Peeta! Stop!"

To her amazement- to everyone's in fact- he did. He stopped screaming, laid flat on the ground and went still.

Six astonished sets of eyes turned on Neuman who was glowing redder by the second.

"Explain," ordered Katniss.

He shrugged nervously, "I had to do a couple of weeks of security-"

"I don't care about that," she interrupted, "What just happened to him?"

"I don't really know," Neuman replied, "just that he thinks he's falling and when he lands, he freaks out just like that." He jerked his head towards Peeta as he said it, indicating the attack that had just happened.

"What happens now?" she asked.

Neuman gulped, glancing towards Johanna and Gale who continued to gape at him, "We gotta wait."

"How long?" Katniss insisted.

Neuman shook his head, "Sometimes it happens quick, sometimes it takes hours. It depends on where he is."

* * *

He was in the woods again, but not the same ones. A man much larger than himself was staring him down in the middle of a clearing, brandishing a long, jagged dagger. Peeta held a blade in his own hand, but it wasn't nearly as big.

It didn't matter. He was going to win.

"I'm gonna gut you, boy," Brutus growled, "then that scrawny wife of yours is mine."

"Not if you're standing all the way over there," Peeta growled, pointing the tip of his knife at the larger man, "COME ON!"

Brutus charged.

* * *

Peeta had mumbled most of the words but Brutus's name stood out.

"At least we know where he is," said Finnick, "Hey Neuman, can he hear us at this point?"

Neuman shrugged, "You got me. Ask her."

Finnick looked down to Katniss who nodded assuredly.

"He's coming back," she told him stubbornly. He couldn't tell if she was really sure or just determined that she could fix this the way she'd promised she would.

York, who'd been crouching nearby, stood saying, "Hey Mason, call the infirmary. Ask if they have something to knock out 180 pounds of soldier."

"Don't!" Katniss's hand flew out to stop her, "Ma'am, if you call them, they'll file a report with the security officer on duty."

"So?" said York, "Why shouldn't they know about this?"

In answer, Kaniss took one of Peeta's hand in her own and removed the glove, revealing the raw skin on his wrist.

"The person in charge of security has been using the prisoners up on four as his personal punching bags," said Katniss as the rest of the room attempted to get a look at what she was showing. One by one, they coiled back in shock. The only person who hadn't moved, hadn't even twitched closer to the platform was Gale. Still avoiding his angry eyes, she kept her gaze on the officer and added, "Peeta's one of his favorites."

"Oh shit," spat York, when she saw the damage, "Who runs things down there?"

"Aldred Carr."

Almost instantly, Peeta began to thrash again, causing all three to leap on top of him once more.

"Well," York said with an ironic laugh, "I guess he heard _that_. Calm down, Mellark!"

It took even longer this time, but he finally stopped fighting them and returned to his state of immobility. Katniss put her hands back to his face and listened to the desperate tirade he'd begun to whisper.

"Everdeen," said York warningly, "he needs to come back. Now."

* * *

He stood over the dead man, still gripping his knife fiercely. Brutus had been stronger, faster, and more experienced, but still Peeta had been victorious. There was an inordinate amount of blood covering his clothes and on his hand. He was red all the way up to his wrist, having hit an artery with his knife. It felt like his entire hand had gone into Brutus's body to achieve the kill.

He should feel horrified, disgusted by what he'd become in the name of saving the woman he loved, but he was numb. Whether from pure shock or simply a new found insensitivity to death, he felt nothing in his mind as he looked at the body. He closed his eyes, sucking in deep breaths of the humid air as he attempted to steady himself, opening his ears to the sounds around him. Only there were no sounds. No birds, or the rustling of trees. Even the cries of the other tributes had gone silent.

When he opened his eyes, he found that the world around him had changed. Gone were the unnatural woods of the arena; in its place was a dismal room with four stone walls. Peeta recognized the room as one of the cells on level four.

This is where he'd spent his week in solitary confinement and for what? Resisting? Fighting back? Running towards a part of the base where the there was a distinct lack of abuse and much more attractive company? At this point in his stay in District 13, it was probably a combination of all three. A familiar set of chains hung from the ceiling and the scent of mildew mixed with the smell of blood from his clothes. The resulting stench made him want to vomit.

On the floor before him, a man lay dead. His assumption that Brutus had somehow been transported there with him vanished as he realized that this man was shorter, stockier, with skin the color of carob. He wore the uniform of an officer with four dark gray stripes on the sleeve.

Aldred Carr.

Vague flashes of memory pieced together Carr's death in his mind. Though he couldn't remember the details, he knew that Carr had unchained him and, drunk on his own arrogance, had shoved the knife into his hand, telling him to stand and fight like a man.

Well he had. Peeta put the blade clean through Carr's body in a matter of minutes. The shock on the officer's face had been well worth whatever punishment Peeta was about to receive for the crime of defending himself.

"Fuck you," he growled, delivering a swift kick to Carr's stiff corpse.

With a sneer, Peeta turned away. It wasn't until his eyes left Carr's dead stare, that he became aware of the pain ripping through his chest. When he looked down, he realized that most of the crimson stain on his clothes had come from his own body. The blood loss sucked the strength from his legs and he fell to his knees_._

___When did that happen?_ He asked himself, reaching up to the multitude of cuts that poured his life onto the cold ground. He could feel his heart struggling, skipping as it insisted on its pathetic desire to continue pumping. It wasn't long before the feeling of paralysis began to overtake him, causing him to lay back in the puddle of blood. His own death was approaching fast and he'd be lying if he didn't admit that after everything he'd been through during the previous months he was relieved.

Peeta closed his eyes, savoring each rattling breath he had left. Any moment the last intake of air would free him from this cell and ultimately from the shitty life he'd spent the last eighteen years trying to preserve. Being so close to the end made all the work he'd done to stay alive seem overwhelmingly pointless.

He was ready to stop caring, to stop worrying and wondering what the next minute would hold for him. He no longer hoped for anything in his life to improve as it had become such a wasted effort. He was done and ready for the solitude and peace of oblivion.

He should have known it wouldn't be that simple.

A sweet sound reached his ears, so soft at first that he was sure he was hallucinating, which wasn't a stretch considering how close he thought he was to death. The sound, which was becoming louder with every passing second, was steadily filling up his ears, making it hard to think straight. As he opened his eyes, he realized that it was the sound of a human voice coming through the wall to his left. The voice was muffled by the barrier, but he was sure it was a woman.

Judging by the continuous sound that rose and fell so smoothly in pitch, he was certain that she was singing. His first instinct was to yell at her to "shut up!" and let him die in peace, but the longer he listened, the more familiar the song became. It was old, centuries old. Some random song that somehow had survived the dark days, though within the last year, he'd found himself humming it more often than any other tune that he knew.

Straining his ears, he was able to pick out a few lyrics.

_"__...this ____I would share with you____  
____All of this count to no end._

___Behind your sealed eyes you miss all that I've done for you____  
____Will you catch me when I run?_

___If timing play evident____  
____What will you say when you're late?_

___Stay with me and fall asleep____  
____Pray to God for no bad dreams"_

By the time the last line repeated itself, Peeta was unconsciously singing along softly and off-key, barely mouthing the words in time with the woman behind the wall. Abruptly, her voice cut off.

When he heard her again, he could tell that she'd come closer to his cell and was speaking directly to him through the stone barrier.

"Can you hear me?" she asked.

He almost laughed. Of course he could hear her; she was only a few feet away.

"I like that song," he replied with heavy cough. For a few breaths, the feeling of blood bubbling in his lungs smoothed out and he was able to take in a couple of deep lungfuls of air. Immediately after, another fit racked his chest, this one so violent that he turned onto his side to expel the thick red mouthful that had come up from inside him.

He took a deep breath once his airway was clear and resumed his place on his back, looking up at the ceiling, noticing as he did, how much brighter the tiny cell had become. A portion of wall had opened up on his left letting in what looked like daylight. Iron bars were set every six inches across the opening, and looking down on him from the other side was Katniss.

Behind her, he could see that she was in a large, well-lit room. Heat was coming in from her side, warming his skin from the cold of the frigid floor. Other faces peered in curiously over her shoulders, but he barely registered anything that wasn't her.

He offered her a weak smile which she gracefully returned.

"You're almost out of there," she said matter-of-factly.

From his place on the ground, he found that hard to believe.

"I'm pretty sure I'm dying actually," he replied with a weak gesture to the many holes in his body.

She cocked her head, her eyes flickering doubtfully to where he had waved his hand, "You look pretty good to me."

A dry laugh left his mouth, "I ___know_ I do."

Her smile grew, "I'm sorry, but if you're gonna claim to be dying and still act like a smart ass, you get no sympathy from me."

"I'm serious," he protested weakly, "Can you get me out of here?"

"You got yourself in there," she replied.

_"____You_ got me in here," he countered, watching as an immediate wave of guilt crossed her face. He wasn't sure why he'd said it, only that he knew it was true. She was the reason he was stuck in this cell, he just couldn't remember what she'd done to get him there.

She chewed on her bottom lip in indecision. Finally she told him, "What do you see in front of you?"

He described the scene around him, everything from the chains to the dead man at his side.

"Wait," she interrupted excitedly, "Carr's in there? That's your way out. He'll have a key."

He couldn't believe how chipper she was about this. She could see into the cell from where she was. How did she not see the blood that covered the floor?

"I can't move," he argued, "I need you to-"

"Peeta!" Katniss interrupted sharply, "You're not dying. Think about it; how long have you been laying there? A long time, right? So why are you still alive?" After a pause, she added, "This isn't real."

She said the words as though they were a simple fact that he was blatantly missing. A warm feeling flooded across his chest. When he looked down the length of his body, he found that all the blood was gone along with the multitude of slash marks- his shirt was even in one piece.

"You understand?' she asked fiercely, "You're fine. ___Now get up, take that key AND COME BACK TO ME !__"_

* * *

_**Song lyrics are from "Always and Never" by Coheed and Cambria.**_


	8. It's Breaking Me

**_Hello happy readers. :) Thank for your favorites, follows, and especially your reviews they're like food for my creative mind. _**

**_I'm so lucky to have SolasVioletta as my beta. She rocks. _**

* * *

_"In these words that crash my ears I now stomach this in fear  
With the turn I gathered name as the bastard's son  
Who by fire I would come, through this wire I might cut  
Atop this tower of loss and lust."_

_Apollo I: The Writing Writer-_

_Coheed and Cambria_

* * *

As Peeta returned to the world of the living, Katniss watched the smoothest transition she'd ever seen him make. He winced and put a hand to the bridge of his nose letting out a pain-filled groan. His eyes opened and when they focused on the world around him, they were clear and calm.

He had a splitting headache and as he sat up. The throbbing against the inside of his skull became a steady pounding like there was a little man in there trying to bust his way out with a sledgehammer. The rest of his body wasn't doing much better. Every muscle ached from a mixture of tension from his episode and the many hits he'd taken during his sparring matches. In particular, his left calf was killing him.

"Peeta?"

His head snapped to the left where he found Katniss at his side, her eyes filled with uncertainty as she waited for him to say something.

"Hey," he said shakily, not taking his eyes from her face as she relaxed and breathed out a sigh of relief. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her body against his, running his free hand from the top of her head to the bottom of her messy braid.

Behind him, Katniss had her hands up, palms facing York and Finnick who'd seen Peeta's quick grab at her and had instantly mistaken it for an attack. She used the move to signal that she was fine, stopping them before they moved in to separate the two on the floor. Once they had backed off, she relaxed into Peeta's embrace, wrapping herself around him so securely it would have taken a crowbar to pry her off.

"How did you know that would work?" he breathed into her ear in a trembling voice as his body shook off the tension.

"I didn't," she replied, hearing a tremor in her own words, "but there's no way I was leaving you in there."

Peeta pressed his lips to a patch of skin just below her earlobe, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. Her eyelids fluttered at the sensation, as she wrapped her arms tighter around his shuddering frame.

"You lied to me," he said assuredly, pulling away from her to look her in the eyes as a knowing smile spread across his mouth.

"When?" she asked him, tilting her head curiously.

Peeta brushed the loose hair from her face, his face practically glowing, "You lied when you said 'no.'"

Without warning, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Though she initially meant to push him away, when her hands fell upon his chest she found heat and muscle under palms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, indulging herself in the fleeting moment. She could feel her skin breaking into delicious goosebumps with every movement of his lips on hers. Memories of that night, almost three weeks before, rushed through her mind as she tasted him on her lips. She'd replayed the scene in her head so many times every moment still crystal clear. Always, she stopped herself from reliving the end when he'd asked if she loved him and she'd broken both of their hearts.

"Hey!"

They broke apart, both looking red-faced- and in Peeta's case smug and pretty pleased with himself- turning to York who was glowering at the pair of them.

"Sit tight, Mellark. Your escort will take you to the infirmary. Everdeen, meet me outside the hall. I'll be there shortly," she said hopping over the rail and heading back towards where Neuman stood with the guards.

When Katniss turned back to Peeta, she found that he'd lost some of his bravado in the face of being dragged off by two men who'd just been taken down and handcuffed because of him.

"Bust me out?" he said, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

She leaned forward, took his face in her hands, and planted her lips on his forehead.

"I'll beat those two up myself if I have to," she promised, before standing and following York.

The officer was giving orders to the guards when Katniss passed by. They saluted York, then returned to the ring. Katniss watched them climb onto the platform. She hadn't forgotten that one of those kids had attempted to kill a good man- one to whom she owed everything, one who already held more pieces of her heart than she liked to admit. Johanna was walking towards York, and Katniss was pleased to see that both of the guards rifles were still slung over her shoulder.

The moment she was back in the hall, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling as though she hadn't had a decent pull of oxygen all day.

She'd spent the last eighteen days working to build a barrier against the unwanted effects of Peeta's presence on her. She'd stuffed down memories, blanked her mind every time he'd begun to creep in, avoided any place where she thought he might be. It was her hope that in time, she would stop dreaming about him, stop fantasizing about the nights they'd spent together. She wanted to forget everything about him that brought a rush to her system in the hopes that when she was forced to see him again, she could walk past him and feel nothing.

The past twenty four hours had done nothing but prove how fruitless her efforts were. Even now, the kiss still burned deliciously against her mouth. Despite herself, she wanted another before her lips had the chance to cool.

Her face fell into her hands as she leaned back against a wall.

_I am so screwed._

When the door opened beside her, she dropped one of her hands, balling it into a fist while the other was left to cover her mouth as she watched Gale quietly emerge from the gym.

He was completely silent as he stalked over to her stopping a few feet away. His arms were folded- she suspected to keep himself from slapping her- and his eyes refused to meet hers. She could feel the rage as it radiated off of his body, like an aura of red hot fury that surrounded him from head to toe. Every few seconds, she would see him shudder in his attempts to control himself.

His anger was a mercy as far as she was concerned. It was his cover, a simpler emotion to deal with than the grief that was coursing its way through him. She knew that he was working hard to stuff down his anguish, and that every second, it came closer to reaching the surface. She turned away, unable to stomach the searing pain she had inflicted upon him. She wanted him to start yelling at her. It had to be better than this stony silence.

When he finally spoke, it was a thin strained sound, as if he hadn't taken in enough breath for the words that were obligatory to their six years of friendship, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, turning her gaze down to their feet. When she looked up again, he could see a gloss over her eyes, as though she was holding back tears.

"That night," he continued, still straining to keep control of the overwhelming need to scream wild accusations at her, "when you were down in the VIP showers and he ripped one apart..." He trailed off waiting for her to say something in her own defense. She didn't. Her eyes were focused on a random point to his right. A pair of tears escaped from her eyelids.

"That's when this started," he said, knowing it was true, "How many times did I ask you about that? You told me that you didn't see him."

"You knew I was lying," she said thickly, meeting his angry gaze, "or you wouldn't have kept asking."

He nodded stiffly, "I knew something was wrong and that something was different...but you should have told me."

"What could I have said to you?" she threw back, raising her voice.

"I don't know," he returned hotly. Every word he spoke became louder than one before it, "How about start with, 'Hey Gale, I'm fucking a crazy person'? For God's sake. There are 8,000 people here and you pick_him_?"

"He has nothing to do with this," she yelled openly, "You're just pissed because I picked someone that isn't_you_!"

She could have sworn she saw his hand twitching towards her. It was a low blow, and the wrong thing to say- but that didn't make it any less the truth.

Gale stepped back, so angry that she could see his entire frame shaking. Where before, this would have caused her to offer comfort, in this moment, it only served to enrage her further. When he turned down the hall and began to walk away, she yelled after him, "What about yesterday? You said that you were my friend before anything else!"

Slowly, he turned back, "Remind me. Did I say that before or after, you _threw _yourself at me?"

Katniss was suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to slap the self-righteous anger right off of his face. With great effort, she kept her hands at her side, seething, "_You kissed me_."

"Then, maybe you should have given me a reason not to," he told her.

Before she could stop him a second time, he made his retreat and disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Gale stormed through the District in such a fury that most people who crossed his path instinctively leaped out of his way before he could run them down. He didn't look at any of them, and not a single person attempted to speak to him.

He wasn't sure where he was going, only that his feet had a destination in mind. Honestly, he didn't care where they took him, as long as it was away from Katniss.

_How could she do that? How could she fucking do that?_

He stepped into an elevator and pushed the top button. The digital screen that displayed the floor number flashed in protest and a beeping noise sounded every time it blinked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blank white card. Just below the bottom row of buttons he inserted the card into a slot, then punched the top button again. This time, "1B" appeared in the display window. After a jolting start, the elevator car ascended through the base, reaching the top in a matter of seconds.

When the doors slid open, he found himself standing on the roof of one of the surface buildings. Clouds covered the sky in every direction and from them came a downpour so fierce that the ground below was hidden by what he thought was at least four feet of raging dark water, churning and rising as rain from the heavens dumped down to join the flood. A wide awning kept him from getting soaked by the rain and a pair of acrylic panels blocked the wind from whipping his face.

Despite the protection, put here in place by others who'd used this roof as a hiding place, he stepped into the rain and walked to the edge of the building. The black water below him swirled and churned, and despite the soaking he was receiving from the sky, he couldn't take his eyes from the torrent below.

All he could think about was how much of his life had been influenced by the mere presence of Katniss Everdeen. When they'd met, he'd been on the brink of losing everything. There was never enough food to go around, Posy was sick, and his mother couldn't find any sort of decent work. Supporting a family of five at the age of fourteen had been nearly impossible and he'd known in his gut that hunting on his own would not be enough. His chance encounter with Katniss had changed all of that. The amount of game they brought in doubled, and Katniss, having less people to feed, always sent him home with the majority of their daily take. Because of her efforts, his family had lived better than most in the Seam.

His long standing friendship with her had also been what saved them all from the Capitol bombs. He would have had no warning, no clue what it meant when the entire District's power went out at once if she hadn't told him what was coming. She'd been his "in" to join the rebellion, she'd been the reason he'd gone to the Capitol to get Peeta back in the first place, the decision which ultimately had led him up to this rooftop. Over and over, she had changed the course of his life. And now she'd done it again, like it was nothing at all.

Falling in love with her had felt like an inevitability when it hit, like it was the natural order of the world that they should be together. She belonged with him. They spent everyday together, of course he would end up marrying her once they were clear of the reapings and she stopped being so afraid of what the future would bring.

_We should have run._

None of this would be happening if he'd just listened to his instincts and gone. They could be living off the land, south of here in a house they'd built themselves. There would be no Hunger Games, no starvation, or fear. Just him and Katniss and their families.

_No Peeta-Fucking-Mellark to get in the way._

Reality came screeching back, rolling in with the thunder that shook the black sky above him. Pain ripped through his chest as though a hand was attempting to yank his heart out through his ribcage. The house where he lived with Katniss faded from his mind as he remembered that the door to their future had just been slammed shut in his face.

_That bitch! How could she do that?!_

Gale's insides boiled sickeningly at the thought of Peeta putting his hands on her.

_No! _He wanted to shout at the thought, _you don't get to touch her. She's mine!_

The Katniss in his head moved closer to Peeta, who's lecherous eyes roamed her body. His hands moved up her thigh.

Gale closed his eyes, trying to shake the image, but he couldn't stop it.

Katniss pulled Peeta's mouth to her own and began to kiss him recklessly, aggressively, molding her entire body against his.

Gale thought he was going to throw up. He remembered with crystal precision the way that she had kissed him the day before. How quickly the tender touch of lips had become a furious assault on his mouth.

The meaning behind her wild actions suddenly became very clear.

A white hot rage bubbled to the surface. He put his hands on the building ledge, leaned forward and at the top of his lungs, screamed, "FUCK YOU!" over the side. Thunder answered his cry, followed immediately by a fork of lightning.

He yelled over the side until he had no breath left. With the rain still pouring, he staggered to the awning, then to the elevator. He didn't know where he was going.

But he had to do something.

* * *

An hour later, he was opening the door to Special Weaponry. Beetee peered his head around the left-hand wall, and exclaimed, "Just in time!" A second later, after giving Gale's soaking wet clothes a second look he added, "But perhaps a towel, first."

As Beetee disappeared around the wall, Gale walked forward, hearing the squeal of his shoes on the tiles. He hadn't realized he was still so wet from the roof. Letting out a loud puff of breath, he rounded the corner.

The scene looked exactly as it had the day before when Gale had come in from hunting. Beetee sat at the work table in the middle of the room, while Peeta sat on the table, watching the engineer work on his busted leg for the second day in a row. Gale felt a shudder down his spine when Peeta met his eyes. His body ached to rush forward and pound that bastard into the floor, but he resisted. There was nothing gloating in the way Peeta looked back, nothing pompous or arrogant- though also he didn't seem the slightest bit apologetic. He simply raised his eyebrows and exhaled a long breath in a gesture that seemed to say, "Well, here we are."

Gale's hands went into his pockets where he clenched his fists so tightly, he thought he would find blood on his palms went he looked at them. He passed the work table and headed toward the drawer in the lab's tiny kitchen where towels were stored. It was a dish towel- too small to do much good, but it would work for now. He removed his over-shirt and hung it over a cabinet door to dry, then slipped off his shoes. He pulled off his socks and threw them into the sink.

The room had gone silent and he became distinctly aware of the tension that permeated the space.

Beetee must have felt the discomfort. He excused himself from the work table and stepped up to Gale who was unconsciously wringing out the sock in his hands so hard that he was close to tearing it in half.

"You okay?" he asked in a low voice.

Gale turned to his engineer friend, looking for signs of sympathy- or worse pity- but what he found was concern. He could only guess that Peeta hadn't said a word about what happened in the gym.

"Fine," said Gale in a clipped voice, hanging the socks up with his shirt, "How bad is the damage?"

Beetee grinned as if Gale had just reminded him of a joke, "Come look." As he returned to the work table, he said in a loud, joking voice, "That girl is a menace when she gets going."

"You're telling me," Peeta said in a dry voice. Gale allowed himself a second to recoil inwardly at the hated sound of his rival's voice.

_No, not rival anymore. He already won. Asshole!_

He took a deep calming breath, then strode forward in his bare feet, stopping a few feet behind Beetee.

"_I _can do that," Gale offered coolly. Two sets of doubtful eyes fell upon him and he had to keep his focus on Beetee's unsure face to stop himself from taking the two steps to the work table, where an assortments of sharp objects were calling to be in his hand.

He realized that there was likely to be a problem once Beetee relinquished control.

"Are you sure?" asked the engineer, already stepping away from Peeta, who was also inventorying the array of potential weapons within reach. Gale nodded and Beetee shoved the tool he held into the younger man's hand.

"Perfect," he said, "I haven't left this lab in days. If you run into any problems, call me down in room 603."

And with that, he hurried out, leaving the two young men alone. While Gale watched Beetee exit, Peeta slipped a particularly sharp looking screwdriver behind his back. He didn't anticipate an attack, but for as long as he'd known Gale- even as a simple school acquaintanceship- he'd never seen the man look quite so unhinged. Judging by the way Gale was strangling the tool in his hand, the exact same thought might have occurred to him.

The moment Beetee was gone, Gale turned toward Peeta and without a word, sat in front of the work table to get a look at what he was dealing with.

The damage wasn't as bad as he'd anticipated. Katniss had jammed her foot into what could only be called the fibula and dislodged it from where it connected to the top of the prosthetic. It stuck out at an awkward angle. The false tissue that usually surrounded the metal bones wasn't anywhere in sight. Gale could only assume that the artificial skin had been left up in the infirmary where it could be reattached by one of the doctors.

But first, it had to be fixed.

He reached to his right and lifted a tool that would heat the metal to make it pliable enough to reset the "bone." Peeta tensed for a moment as the tool got closer, watching every move Gale made with increasing distrust.

"Don't worry," Gale grumbled irritably, leaning in, "You'll still have this piece of crap when I'm done."

"Not worried about that," Peeta replied in a low voice.

"Then why don't you put that screwdriver back where it belongs?"

Peeta leaned back on his hands, getting his fingertips closer to his "weapon."

"Seems only fair to hang onto it," he said.

Gale couldn't help the grim pleasure he felt at the knowledge that he was being perceived as a threat.

"How about this," he said attempting to sound casual, "You don't push me and we'll both get to walk out of here on our own."

"Look," Peeta said levelly, "I uh- I can imagine that you're pretty pissed right now."

_He always has something to say, doesn't he? _Gale thought bitterly, using the tool in his hand, "I seriously doubt that."

Peeta held back his reply, knowing full well that there was very little he could say that would be of any comfort to his lover's best friend. Not that it mattered much to him, of course. If Gale was unhappy with the current arrangement, it was no skin off _his _back.

"Where'd she go anyway?" Gale asked after the palpable silence became too much to bear.

"York wanted to talk to her," Peeta replied simply, "She'll probably come up here when she's done. She'll want to make sure we're not killing each other."

"I don't see that being the case," Gale replied, sitting up from his work, "We wouldn't be killing _each other. _I'd be gutting you with a fucking soldering knife."

"You wanna find out?"

Gale let out a laugh, "Tough words for a guy who can't even stand up." He looked up to find Peeta fuming and felt flash of satisfaction, "I'm not gonna fight you, Peeta. I'm gonna fix your leg, you're gonna go, and with any luck, I will never have to lay eyes on you again."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning," Gale said, popping the metal rod back into place and stepping back, "that you have a real talent for pissing off the wrong people. Carr's ready to kill you. Katniss is the only reason he hasn't done it yet and once we're gone, I don't think he'll feel the need to hold back- Stand up. Try it out."  
Peeta hopped off of the work table and immediately fell on his face. Gale looked down with a gratified smile.

"Feel better?" Peeta asked from the floor.

Gale shrugged, "Little bit."

All the same, he reached down and hauled Peeta back onto the table. He picked up the screwdriver and tightened the joints in the mechanical leg.

"You might not believe this," he said as he set to work, "but I don't envy you."

"Bullshit."

"Don't get me wrong, I'd give just about_ anything _to be where you've been," Gale allowed, "I've been in love with that girl for years. But," he said it with finality, "if I'm stuck in the friend zone, at least I know where I stand with her."

"I_know_where I stand with her," Peeta countered, "She loves me."

"Does she?" Gale asked indulgently, "Did she say that?"

The urge to grab the screwdriver and shove the pointy end into Gale's smug face grew with every word he said. Peeta's lack of reply seemed to spur Gale on.

"Well, consider this," he said cruelly, "While you're here, getting the shit beat out of you, I'm gonna be in the Capitol with your girl. You know how fickle she can be and I know exactly how to get her to kiss me. With you out of the picture, who knows where _that _could lead."

"It'll never happen," Peeta said unable to keep the waver of frustration out of his voice.

Gale almost couldn't resist telling him every moment of how Katniss had kissed him the day before, but the reminder only brought a flash of pain as he remembered _why _she had been so passionate and careless with him. He refused to give Peeta the satisfaction.

"Let me ask you something," he said, examining his repairs, "all this time you've been coming down here, why didn't you ever say anything? I think if it was me, gloating to you would be the first thing I'd do."

Peeta wished he had a better reasoning for this, something that would make him look like the superior man, but the fact was, he'd been _dying _to tell Gale from the moment he came in for his repairs over a week ago.

He shrugged, "If I went blabbing to you, what would you of done?"

"Called you a liar, probably."

"Exactly," said Peeta, "but after a couple of days the thought would drive you _so _crazy you'd demand that she tell you everything. She would and then you'd try to kick my ass, probably bust up my leg, which you'd then have to fix. And then we'd be here. _This _is what I was trying to avoid."

"I'd say you failed."

"Honestly, I thought she would have told you," Peeta went on, as though Gale hadn't spoken, "It was driving her crazy for a while there. Keeping secrets from you was killing her."

Gale shook his head, "She knew how I'd react. Maybe she thought you get beat up enough."

"Yeah," Peeta said with the ghost of a grin, "she didn't exactly go easy on me today."

"You were being an asshole," Gale reminded him gruffly, as he gathered the tools, "she had every right to do worse." A thought occurred to him and he turned back, "One more question, just for my own curiosity, when you're with her, do you ever worry that she's thinking of me?"

Peeta should have known better than to rise to the bait, but once asked, how could he resist?

"All the time," he said. Gale gave a pompous smirk and turned to put the tools away. The moment he turned his back, Peeta added viciously, "And then she starts screaming my name while I'm fucking her blind and I forget all about you."

And just like that, any hint of a truce was over. The last fraying threads of Gale's self control snapped and the tools fell from his hands- all but one.

He advanced on Peeta, yelling "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

He jabbed the screwdriver threateningly under Peeta's chin, spitting out his words in an enraged jumble, "One more word. I swear to God, give me one more fucking word. I want to do it!"

Peeta narrowed his eyes, swallowing loudly, "Then do it."

Gale changed his grip on the screwdriver. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this angry. Why the hell shouldn't he kill the bastard? Everyone would be better off. One less prisoner to deal with, one less mouth for the District to feed. The general consensus was that Peeta Mellark was a waste of space and not a soul would miss him.

No one but Katniss.

That was all it took to cause his grip to slacken. Explaining to her why her lover was dead wasn't something he thought he could handle. He stepped back and tossed the tool onto the counter before walking away towards the kitchen area where he could calm himself down.

_Hang in there, _he told himself, _Killing him only gets you locked up. Of course with Carr in charge, I'd probably get a medal._

He returned to Peeta who looked adequately contrite for what had come out of his mouth. One more second and he might have even apologized.

"I said not to push me," Gale reminded him.

Before Peeta could reply, they heard the door slam shut. Katniss appeared around the corner, looking as though she'd just stepped out the rinse cycle of a washing machine. When she saw the two of them, she stopped in her tracks. She'd known Peeta would be in the lab, but figured Beetee would doing the repairs. It hadn't occurred to her that Gale might be there too. For a moment, the men stared daggers at each other before turning to her.

"You been on the roof?" Gale asked, unable to believe that York would have let her in on such a little known secret.

His eyes still blazed from his confrontation with Peeta giving him the look of a wild man as he stared her down. Peeta looked more or less the same, but he kept guiltily averting his eyes, making her think that she had just missed something big.

"Yeah," said slowly, "It's raining up there."

She still wore the uniform pants and sports bra, her hair was dripping with water and she was shivering, her arms wrapped around herself as she struggled to keep in the warmth.

"How's it going down here?" she asked, pulling a towel from the same drawer that Gale had gotten his. She saw his socks hanging and wanted nothing more than to do the same with her own, but wasn't sure if she'd be staying long enough for them to dry. Instead, she released her hair from the messy braid and ran her fingers through it, bending over to wring it out in the sink. She threw the towel over her head and approached the table where the two men were watching her every move.

"I just finished," Gale told her, taking a final look over his work.

"You sure this time?" Peeta asked.

"Try it out."

While Peeta found his footing, Gale headed toward the cabinet and threw the still-wet shirt over his head, then shoved the socks into a pocket before stuffing his feet into his boots. He left the lab without a word, barely making it three steps out the door before Katniss came running after him.

"Will you just _talk _to me?" she exclaimed

Reluctantly, he turned, "What do you want from me, Katniss?"

She neared him, her arms still wrapped around her middle. Looking him dead in the face, she said, "I'm sorry. You're right. I should have told you about this. I should have trusted you."

Once again, he got to feel like something that should be squished under her boot. He shook his head, "You know how I would have handled it. If you're happy, I'm not screwing with that, especially after-"

She nodded, taking one of his hands into her own, "I know."

A second later, she was wrapped in his arms. His face was buried in her loose hair, breathing in the scent of rain and woods as she spoke in a thick voice, "I'm really lucky to have you."

His hands reached for the sides of her face and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Damn right you are," he said.

She pulled back, "I should go."

He watched her as she headed back into the lab, throwing a serene smile over her shoulder before disappearing behind the door.

His own smile faded from his mouth as he turned back and headed for the elevator, jabbing the button for the fourth floor. He reached the level and stepped out, heading for the department office where the man he sought out was pouring over a huge pile of documents.

"Got a minute?" asked Gale.

Black eyes looked up, and he watched a twisted smile spread across the officer's face.

"Come on in," said Carr.

* * *

**_Real quick, before I start getting hate mail- or even love mail- for turning Gale into a big jerk, consider this: what would you do if your best friend told you that the guy who once tried to kill her was her new boyfriend? You might freak out too. _**

**_Of course, there's a lot more to it than that. )_**

**_Next up: LEMONS! _**


End file.
